


Once Upon a Dream

by Swanny_Writer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Jeon Wonwoo Is a Flirt, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Wen Jun Hui | Jun is a Sweetheart, WonHui Are Bad at Feelings, are you guys ready to follow wonhui on their quest?, but they're idiots so they don't know what it means, grab your thinkin' caps & let's gooooooo!, wonhui are each other's comforts, wonwoo flirts a lot and junnie pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 137,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanny_Writer/pseuds/Swanny_Writer
Summary: Who doesn’t want to meet the person of their dreams? But what happens if those wishes become reality?High school graduate Junhui has been dreaming of the same mysterious and charming boy for months now. He has always attributed those dreams to stress and his wild imagination. But when he walks out of his family’s restaurant and meets face to face with the boy of his dreams, he can no longer deny that something strange is happening here.All is fun and games as Junhui starts to get to know Wonwoo in the real world, until one day. Whatever made Wonwoo run away to Junhui has caught up with him. Now Junhui is swept off of his feet and into a magical realm where they will unravel the secret that could save them and the Jeon family.  But before long, they will run and hide for their lives or fall right back into the trap set out to catch Wonwoo.So what’s a boy to do when the guy of his dreams drags him into a quest that could lead them to their deaths? Why, go along and hope for their happy ending, of course!(Or the one where Wonwoo shows up in Jun's dreams and flirts a lot. They also solve a bunch of riddles.)-
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 228
Kudos: 306





	1. Dream Come True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾ To bring us a little bit of sunshine on this gloomy period, may I present to you yet another wonhui adventure with magic ✩°｡⋆⸜(ू˙꒳˙ ) and True Love™ (but that goes without saying lol). 
> 
> For those who don't know, the story is 22 chapters, a lot shorter than the previous chaptered fics, but hopefully it'll be just as fun! I can guarantee that it'll be a lot less heavy in terms of plot line and angst, so you should be able to forego tissues 😂
> 
> Enough babbling, let's get going! Happy Reading!
> 
> -

Sitting under the stars and bathed in the gentle glow of the moon, nothing could have brought Junhui more peace and contentment. He leaned back, resting his weight onto his palms, and breathed in deeply the scent of grass and flowers. A light summer breeze swept through the area, rustling the leaves of the large trees around him and caressing his red locks. Smiling, he opened his eyes.

Everything looked spectacular: the vibrant colors of the multitude of wild flowers set against the lush grass blades swaying to and fro, the tress standing so gloriously tall, the silvery light of the moon illuminating the whole valley. The vast ocean of stars overhead made him sigh wistfully. Unworried, he collapsed into the soft grass, staring at the shining diamonds. The dancing grass tickled his exposed skin, and he giggled at the sensation, closing his eyes to enjoy the serenity of the valley.

Not long after, though, he heard a familiar chuckle, followed by an even more familiar deep voice.

“Out on another nightly expedition, princess?”

His eyes flashed open to see Wonwoo standing above him, hands tucked in his pocket, the perfect image of leisure.

Junhui wrinkled his nose and made a face. “Why must you insist on calling me that?”

Laughing, Wonwoo took a seat next to him. “Because it suits you?”

“Liar.” The nickname was a joke, born out of the one time Junhui wore a shirt with dozens of cartoon cats. When he bought it, he had been so distracted by the cats that the words printed on it went completely ignored: Cat Princess. Wonwoo had picked up on it right away and had yet to stop using it.

“Now I’ll never be able to wear my favorite shirt without thinking about it,” he whined.

Wonwoo laughed again, leaning down to stare at him. “Good.” He was so close, Junhui could see perfectly his captivating eyes change from purple to green out of amusement. Now, his piercing eyes were the color of the valley’s grass with specks of sapphire sprinkled all over. Junhui had never quite gotten over the breathtaking sight of his eyes, continuously marveling at how they change colors depending on his mood.

Junhui barely had the time to wonder what amused Wonwoo enough to prompt the change, that the latter smirked and stated, “I’ll be honored to be allowed to occupy your every thought.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he clapped his hands over his face to hide. He knew Wonwoo was a flirt—a harmless one—but it didn’t stop his heart from beating out of sync. “Wonwoo!” he cried out, whining when he heard the other laugh. “Do your hobbies include teasing me to death?”

Once his laughter ebbed, Wonwoo reached over and mussed the red locks, prompting their owner to look at him properly. “Don’t sulk. Come with me. I’d like to show you something fun.”

At the prospect of spending more time with him, Junhui eagerly got to his feet and let Wonwoo lead him away.

Along the way to wherever he was planning to take him, he said nothing. Just held on to his hand and walked across the grassy hills. That didn’t particularly bother Junhui for he was not usually a garrulous person, either. Instead, he enjoyed watching the flowers swaying in the breeze as if dancing to a quiet song of the night.

The wind caught in his shirt and flew around his torso, tickling him; Junhui giggled. His companion turned around to see what caused the giddiness. Upon realizing it, he offered him a gentle smile that caused Junhui’s heart to flutter. The latter decided to distract himself by studying Wonwoo’s confident back.

Unlike Junhui, he was dressed more formally and slightly flashier. Almost as if he had run away from an important gala or the sort. Although he still wore a pair of dark red dress pants, the matching jacket that normally would accompany such a suit was nowhere to be seen. The top buttons of his white shirt had been undone to appear more casual and less restricting, but the golden threads embellishing his shirt spoke volumes about the formality of the event he had previously attended. Furthermore, his disheveled honey brown hair had the semblance of having been purposely mussed to efface any trace of prior courtly aspect.

Junhui’s mind didn’t have the time to think over the strange clothing and hairstyle, though, because Wonwoo stopped walking. Junhui peeked over his shoulder. As far as he was aware, this particular location didn’t have anything special. They were still in that flower valley; however, Junhui spotted a lake a few yards away from where they stood. The water acted just like a giant mirror, reflecting back the sea of gems in the inky sky.

As beautiful as the scene was, Junhui didn’t know why Wonwoo had led him here.

Curious, Junhui glanced over at him.

Instead of answering the unspoken question, Wonwoo instructed, “Wait here.” Then he dropped their hands and walked a bit farther away.

Junhui watched as Wonwoo bent down and quickly gathered a handful of wild flowers. He handed them to Junhui upon his return, motioning for the latter to rearrange them into a rough bouquet. While he worked, Wonwoo cupped his hands and raised them into the moonlight.

Doe eyes turning round with curiosity, Junhui watched him with wonderment. It seemed as though Wonwoo was collecting the moonlight into his cupped hands. He could see tiny pieces of silver falling into his palms as the light shone down, glistening and sparkling.

Grinning in satisfaction, Wonwoo turned back to Junhui. His eyes were now vibrantly blue with specs of sapphires, showcasing his excitement. “It worked!” he laughed. “Hold out the flowers, princess.”

Junhui followed directions, attention rapt on Wonwoo as the latter poured the silver light over the flowers. It settled on the petals, attracted to the droplets of dew, glowing even brighter.

He gasped in delight.

The show didn’t end there.

Wonwoo took hold of Junhui’s hands currently grasping the stems and tossed them upward, releasing everything into the air. The flowers flew up and slowly floated back down, carried by a soft breeze. They twirled and swayed, tumbling in the beam of moonlight. Sparkles caught in the light, glistening. By the time they reached the grass, Junhui had already seen the phenomenon. Falling from the sky together with the flowers were small, round and smooth stones the same color of Wonwoo’s eyes at this moment: clear blue with small bits of sapphire. To catch one, Junhui simple needed to extend his hands out.

“Wonwoo, what did you do?” Awe colored his voice. “This is... amazing!” A grin spread over his lips. “How did you do this?” he asked, taking a step closer to him, excitement rendering him restless.

Reaching out, Wonwoo stroked his cheek softly and smiled. He tapped Junhui’s full lips. “Secret.”

In one swift move, he dangled a silver necklace in front of Junhui. At the center of the chain, a blue stone hung there. Junhui glanced from the necklace to Wonwoo, full of questions and astonishment.

Without saying a word, Wonwoo motioned for him to turn around so he could attach the clasp behind his neck. Cool metal settled over his skin, and the small weight of the stone offered a strange sense of comfort. Junhui couldn’t help picking it up, tracing over the smooth surface with his fingertips.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking up at Wonwoo again.

His eyes having returned to their usual violet shade, he smiled. Slowly, he reached for the stone pendant, elegant hand wrapped around Junhui’s. Gaze steady and piercing, he asked, voice low and enchanting, “Do you believe in magic?”

Junhui closed his eyes.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

His hand flew out to search for his phone by the bedside table to slide off the alarm. Groaning, Junhui huddled deeper under his covers, refusing to wake up. Last night, he had been too tired from work to remember to disable the alarm for good. No need for it anymore. It was summer vacation. He could afford to sleep in for a couple more hours, right? Hugging his cat plushie, he willed himself back to sleep.

No success.

Guess his body needed time to get out of the habit of waking up at dawn.

Flinging the covers back, he popped out of his cocoon and stared up at the ceiling. He sighed. Another dream about Wonwoo. Whoever he may be. Last night’s dream was the fourth one this week. _What is wrong with me?!_

Grabbing HuiHui, he pressed the plushie to his face and kicked out erratically, muffling his screams as he recalled the events in the dream, embarrassment burning the tips of his ears.

To dream of strange, beautiful places, and of an even more beautiful and stranger boy. When the first dream occurred a few months ago, he had blamed it on stress. At first, the dreams had been rather mundane. He just took walks with Wonwoo in the same flower valley, and the two talked, as if they had been friends for years. Despite knowing they were mere dreams, Junhui couldn’t get over how everything seemed so real, so vibrant and clear. Every morning, when he would recall the previous dream, he would always feel as though he relived a memory instead. There was no fogginess, no fuzziness. He could still retain the sensation of the grass under his feet, the floral scent lingering in his nose, the warmth of Wonwoo’s hand in his.

It felt real.

Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s impossible. Why am I even thinking about this?” he mumbled to himself.

He laid in bed for another half hour thinking over things. He was now a high school graduate. His grandmother had been so proud of him, she cooked enough food to feed an entire army. He tried not to let his thoughts linger on how much he’ll miss her and her food once fall arrives and he’ll have to move away for college. He still had the summer with her. He’ll just try to make the best of it. Even if he had to work most of the time, but at least it was for the family business.

Before his parents passed away years ago, they had opened a small restaurant serving home-cooked foods from a multitude of cuisines. They were quite the foodies, always exploring and trying out new dishes.

After their passing, his grandmother took over the establishment, and with the help of Junhui and a few of his parents’ old friends, they’d managed to keep the shop afloat all these years. Aside from the handful of regular patrons who genuinely enjoyed their dishes and came everyday, most people visited _Healing Bites_ out of the same bond that kept his mother’s friends working here and his father’s college friends helping them with yearly repairs. They served occasional out-of-town guests, too, of course, but the majority of their patrons were familiar faces.

In addition to the restaurant, they also had a few rooms on the second floor set aside for travelers passing by their small town to rest and eat. The rooms remained empty more often than not, saved for the few businessmen and rare sightseers, but since summer had arrived, they should see activity rise soon.

He glanced at the clock on his phone. It was a little early, but he might as well get out of bed now. Stretching, Junhui sat up and got ready for the day.

Once the morning rush ended, Junhui slipped into the kitchen in search for something to do before he could take his lunch break. Like for most restaurants, between breakfast and lunch, there was seldom any customers, giving him nothing to do but getting bored (if only there was no rule against using electronics during a shift…)

He spotted a few dozen cupcakes cooling on the rack and a bowl of icing sitting on the counter.

“Do you want me to help with the cupcakes?” he asked.

Bora looked up from prepping vegetables. “Oh, sure! That would be great. Thanks, Jun.”

“You’re welcome!”

After washing his hands, he parked himself on a kitchen stool and began to work, singing softly under his breath. Barely had he finished the first batch that Hayun burst through the doors, startling him and Bora.

“What’s wrong?” Bora asked, alarmed by the other woman’s frantic expression.

“Is Grandma okay?” Junhui wanted to know, stomach dropping in fear. With the lull in business, she had decided to drop by the market. She couldn’t have gotten into an accident on the way, right?

“She’s fine, just came back,” Hayun reassured him. Junhui didn’t even have time to sigh in relief that she continued in the same breath, “But we’re being invaded! I need you out front with me. Too many people to take care of. We gotta divide and conquer! Let’s go!” Not waiting a second longer, she turned around and grabbed an armful of menus. “Bora, get ready to cook like you’re on Iron Chef!”

The auntie burst out laughing, but nodded and hurried to her station.

As for Junhui, he quickly got to his feet and followed her orders, but he didn’t understand the rush. So they had more customers, although it was strange, not impossible. And what was the panic about? There can’t be that many people, this was Wildflower Grove, not New York City. Hayun was most likely playing drama queen again.

It wasn’t until he saw the masses right outside the kitchen that he understood Hayun’s baffled expression and frenzied behavior.

People.

Everywhere.

Some got seats and were already looking at the menus, others waited by the entrance, joking with each other. Through the windows, he could see a queue forming, lining the entire length of the building. He blinked several times. He doubted he ever saw this many people here. A mental image sprung through his mind of a box of sardines. It was so crowded, he had to literally squeeze his way through to get to them.

“We seem to have accumulated a little more than we usual do, I’m sorry, sir.”

“Could you come back in an hour, would that work for you? We’re truly sorry.”

“There’s a waiting list by the entrance, please sign in.”

After a while, he managed to reduce the crowd to a more reasonable size. Thankfully, the customers who couldn’t get a table were all courteous and polite. They didn’t mind his suggestion of going around town and returning later. With the issue of potentially going over the occupancy limit solved, now he had to deal with waiting on all these tables. Thanks to Hayun’s quick reflexes, a few orders had already been taken to the kitchen for Bora and his grandmother to prepare.

Hayun came up to him on her way to bring out drinks. “We can’t work this the same way we usually do, kid. Not with this many people.” She eyed the unusual crowded room. He nodded, listening to her proposal.

“We’ll divide the floor into quadrants to be more efficient. The corner tables are a little tricky, so let’s just split them. Tables 13 through 17 are yours. I’ll take care of the ones on the terrace. Good?”

Junhui nodded. “Good!”

Pumped full of energy, he spun around to start taking orders. Notepad and pen at the ready.

When he jogged toward his side of the floor, though, he came to an abrupt halt. He tried to blink to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But no matter how much he rubbed his eyes, his vision remained the same.

Sitting at the corner table, a boy with disheveled honey brown hair and a white shirt with two top buttons undone stared back at him with violet eyes. As he registered Junhui’s shocked expression, a glorious grin spread over his lips, illuminating his handsome face. He sat back against his seat, one arm propped on the back of it as he assessed him. 

Biting onto his fist was all Junhui could do to muffle a scream when he witnessed the patron’s purple eyes change to bright green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooooooh~ well, junnie, what are you gonna do now? 😂 wonu is such a tease... 
> 
> Pro-tip: pay attention to wonu's eye colors 👀 after a few chapters, i'll make a list of each color and what general emotions they match up with to make it easier on you guys.
> 
> Anyway! I hope you like it so far. Please let me know what you think! I will post Ch. 2 tomorrow! 
> 
> As always, thank you very much for the love an support! Stay safe and healthy!!! See you soon!  
> xoxoxo


	2. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So is it really Wonwoo or just someone who looks exactly like Wonwoo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's Ch. 2! 
> 
> Warning for cheese and pickup lines 😅😂
> 
> -

“M-May I take your order, sir?” Junhui plastered on a bright smile and did his best to keep his voice level. The last thing he needed was to make a scene in front of an audience.

_It’s just a lookalike. An identical Wonwoo lookalike. No need to freak out. The guy is probably wearing contacts. That’s it! Don’t be weird, Jun._ With that short pep talk to grab onto as his lifesaver, he took in a deep breath and went into work mode.

The patron glanced at him. As if he could guess at Junhui’s inner turmoil, he hid a crooked smile, then said absentmindedly, “What do you recommend, Junhui?”

The sound of his name really should not startle him this much. However, considering the situation, he found his reaction reasonable. Thankfully, he remembered the name tag clipped to his apron, and so he avoided making a complete fool of himself in a room full of customers. As for how much this lookalike sounded like Wonwoo, well… maybe Junhui was just imagining it because they looked too similar. Yes. He will blame it on his imagination.

“It is quite early for lunch,” he replied casually, pointing to the clock on the wall. “Would you rather look at our brunch combos?”

The doppelganger looked at him for a moment, then smiled again, giving the young waiter the notion that he was missing out on some secret joke. “There’s no need for you to go out of your way. I am quite satisfied with the lunch menu, actually. But what are your recommendations?” he asked again. “Any favorites?”

Junhui floundered for a second. To say that he wasn’t used to the questions would be an understatement. No one had ever asked for his recommendation or his own taste. Did Mr. Doppelganger genuinely need help narrowing down dishes, or was he making small talk? Whatever his intent, Junhui decided to ignore it. He still had dozens of customers to take care of. The faster he finished with this table, the faster he could escape and find his peace of mind.

“Do you have any allergies? Or certain ingredients you don’t like?”

“Just seafood.”

“Okay, then how about the noodles?”

“Sure. Would you mind listing them out for me? I forgot my glasses.”

From the way he directed his gaze toward Junhui, the hint of a grin tugging the corner of his mouth, the latter had a small inkling the customer might not be a hundred percent honest about his eyesight. Still, Junhui didn’t have any reason to refuse. He leaned closer to the menu, pointing and reading out the various names, along with the respective ingredients. If his cheeks turned pink from the other’s lingering gaze, he pretended not to notice.

By the time he finished and looked up, he caught sight of the vibrant jade eyes turning amethyst again.

“Sounds delicious. Thank you,” he said.

“I’ll be right out with your drink,” Junhui told him, then escaped to the back counter.

As soon as he got there, he let out a muffled scream and hugged the fridge. _It’s going to be okay. Just keep working._

While getting the peach iced tea ready, Junhui peeked out into the floor. Hayun took more orders and moved faster than he’d ever seen her. The speed did not dampen her friendliness nor efficiency. She left a trail of smiles and laughter at every table she served. Truly impressive. He hoped he could do as good of a job.

Despite his best efforts, though, he couldn’t quite stop himself from spying on table 17. The lookalike didn’t do anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, but the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right kept bugging him. And that was besides the fact that he was the splitting image of the boy Junhui’s been seeing in his dreams for months now. That detail only added to the small conflict storming up in his head.

“Jun, what are you staring at?”

He jumped at Hayun’s question. She had just pinned up a few more orders and getting busy with the drinks.

“Nothing.” He went back to the counter and picked up a tray for the drink along with a straw. “I’m just a little shocked at the crowd.”

“Yes, that is very strange. But no time for chitchat right now. We need to get them food before they tear down this place!” She laughed and took a tray with different plates in each hand and went out again. Following her lead, he headed out, too.

This time around, the lookalike didn’t give him any particular attention, which Junhui told himself was for the better. He set down the drink and hurried to the other tables. After a while, the routine slowly sank in, and he caught a hold of the motion. The peculiar thing, though, was that the people kept on coming, blending this peculiar popular brunch hour with the lunch rush. Occasionally, he would see familiar faces coming in, also shocked at the odd crowd. No sooner had they cleaned up a table that another family requested seats. They barely had time to breathe, let alone taking breaks.

With all the commotion, he had almost forgotten the guy in the far corner. The patron must be done with his order now, Junhui thought. On his way to the kitchen to pick up another tray, Junhui passed by his table, noticing him holding onto an old page of paper. He seemed to be in deep concentration, a crease forming between his brows.

_Stop staring!_ Junhui chastised himself, slinking away to let the customer to his own thoughts.

During the short three minutes he gave himself to take a breath behind the counter while preparing a smoothie, he finally had the chance to study at the room full of people in its entirety. Most of them were strangers, but some were the shop’s regulars. It was sort of funny to see the town people eye the newcomers, wondering where they had suddenly come from. He giggled at Mr. Lee’s surprised look as he stepped into the door and saw that his usual table was occupied by a family of three children and their parents. Impulsively, Junhui turned the other way to look at his side of the floor.

An odd sight made him furrow his brows in puzzlement. On Hayun’s side, people were sitting so close to each other, it didn’t take much to eavesdrop on the next table’s conversation—yet no one seemed to mind. On this side, however—more precisely in the far corner—an invisible bubble seemed to surround the strange and handsome boy. He had all the room he wanted around him; the placement of the tables and chairs didn’t bother him at all, while the rest of the patrons were fit to sit as close to one another as possible. How did that happen?

“Order up, Jun!” He turned around and gave Bora a thumbs-up. He quickly poured out the smoothie and went to pick up the trays of soup and rice.

“Enjoy your meal!” He hurried to hand the food to the hungry tables. “Please let me know if you’d like anything else.”

On his periphery, he noticed afew people getting ready to leave, so he ran back to the front counter to man the cash register. Not long after, a man in his forties came to pay, followed by a young woman and her kids.

“Great service. Thanks, kid,” the man said cheerfully and handed him the money. When Junhui tried to give him back the change, he shook his head. “Like I said, it was great service. Keep the change.” He smiled.

“Thank you, sir. Please come back again.” Junhui bowed.

He hadn’t had the chance to look at the checks and credit card bills, but the customers who chose to pay at the register all left ridiculously large amounts of money as tip. To the point that he felt uncomfortable and guilty for accepting it.

By the time he finished taking care of the people in line, the crowded room had somewhat dissipated, much to his relief. He collapsed into a nearby chair before his legs could give out. Heaven couldn’t be more wonderful. He sighed in contentment for the miraculous short break. Unfortunately, his break didn’t last very long, because out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Wonwoo doppelganger push out his chair, getting ready to leave. He was heading for this direction.

As if an electric current zapped him out of the seat, Junhui jumped up and stood by his previous spot. The lookalike took his time, movements elegant and unhurried. Not that Junhui stared.

Wearing that infuriatingly charming smile again, he greeted the young waiter, then handed in his bill for Junhui to handle the transaction. When their gazes met, he realized the other had already been staring at him with those violet eyes again, but this time instead of turning green as Junhui expected, they swirled until they adopted a golden tint. Did Junhui somehow frustrate him? He shook his head discretely. He must be reading too much into things, too tired and seeing things that didn’t happen.

Junhui accepted his money with a simple ‘thank you’ and refused to meet his intense gaze. If only that could stop his cheeks from heating up and his hands from shaking. Getting the change, he put on his business smile. “Thank you, please come again.”

“For someone who’s been in half a dozen school plays, you’re a terrible actor,” the blond said lightly. “You don’t have to try so hard to pretend not to know me.”

“Excuse me?” Eyes turning round, Junhui startled. It was a miracle he could still find his own voice amidst the chaos in his head. “I’m not—How do you know—You’re _him?_ No, wait—Huh?”

“I’m hurt, princess,” Wonwoo lamented, although the glint in his green eyes was anything but forlorn. “After all we’ve been through, you can’t even call me by name?”

“Wha…” His stomach dropped. It took all of his self-control not to run out the door. The need to know what was going on trumped over his instincts to flee. “How—How can you be _here?”_ he asked shakily, a hysterical laugh bubbling out of his throat. _“_ They were just dreams… Right? Or am I hallucinating right now?” Squeaking in distress, he squished his face. “What is happening to me? Am I even talking to a real person?”

Sighing dramatically, Wonwoo shook his head and gave him a wistful look. “As flattering as it is to know that I am the man of your dreams, I can promise that I am much better in flesh and blood.” He ended his sentence with a smirk, and Junhui felt his heart give out. “I’m real, princess.”

Another squeak escaped when Wonwoo chucked lightly at his chin.

The latter chuckled at his reaction and took advantage of his dazed state to reach for his hand, still extended out with the change. Junhui startled at the touch, so oddly familiar and comforting, he almost thought himself to be dreaming again.

Instead of taking the money, Wonwoo folded Junhui’s fingers close and pushed his hand back toward him. He ran his thumb over the knuckles. “You left that behind last night.” He winked, grinning mischievously.

Junhui ignored his erratic heartbeat, eyeing him suspiciously.

Smug grin still in place, Wonwoo gestured for him to open his hand.

The young waiter tightened his hold, only sensing the weight of the coins and the crinkle of the bills. A little apprehensive, Junhui nevertheless followed instructions.

His jaw dropped as he took in the sight of a silver necklace with a smooth and shiny stone nestled among the money. A blue colored stone with inky swirls that matched Wonwoo’s eyes as he grinned at the boy’s baffled expression.

“What...” Now he really lost any sense of coherent sentence structures.

“See you later, princess,” Wonwoo simply said in reply, then glided out of the building.

Still too stunned, Junhui couldn’t make himself move to catch up with him and demand a proper explanation. He just stood there, staring at the necklace, and tried to understand how anything out of this entire situation was possible outside of a dream. But he wasn’t dreaming. He even pinched himself extra hard to prove it. Now he’ll have a giant bruise on the thigh _and_ still no logical explanation.

He really spoke with a figure of his imagination. The boy he kept dreaming of—Wonwoo—was a real person. And apparently, everything that happened in the dreams were real. How was he going to get his mind wrapped around _that?_

He set the money aside and unclasped the necklace to put it around his neck. At least he could find comfort in its presence.

“What a morning!” Bora exclaimed, exiting the kitchen to come and sit at an empty table.

His grandmother followed after her, holding a glass of water. “I don’t think we’ve ever served so many dishes at once. You okay, kiddo?”

“I’m fine, Grandma. Just… wow!” he laughed. It sounded flat, but with how exhausted they all were, it didn’t raise any alarms. Secretly, he tucked the necklace under his shirt.

“What a crazy day!” Hayun commented, joining them as the last patrons left.

“Yeah, crazy morning,” he repeated robotically, his mind not at all following the conversation that soon followed. He could only hope that whatever strangeness he found himself in would soon blow over just like the sudden feeding frenzy.

No one seemed to suspect that anything was wrong with him, except for his grandmother, although she probably thought his overly chirpy behavior was done in compensation for the rush from this morning. He did his best to not act _too_ weird, only glancing out the windows a few times on the off-chance that Wonwoo might come back.

By some miracle, nothing out of the ordinary happened all the way to the end of the dinner rush. All the customers had come and gone, and the staff cleaned up and closed down shop without a hitch. Perhaps earlier today had been a mere fluke. Things should return to normal now, he inferred. (Of course, he still had to come to terms with Wonwoo existing, but he’ll deal with that later.)

Bora and Hayun had already gone home early. His grandmother loved them like her own children, so after their hard work today, she shooed them away, deeming that they needed the extra hours of rest.

With them gone, he and his grandmother were left to their own devices, as they often were nowadays. After they closed _Healing Bites_ for the night, the two would go upstairs, and Junhui would keep her company. She would knit, while he did his homework or some other kind of silent activity. Those evenings didn’t exactly scream “exciting!” but he enjoyed spending some time with her. Tonight, however, he dreaded it a little, afraid that he might end up saying something strange if she asked questions about today. He was good at avoiding situations, but if his own grandmother confronted him, he wasn’t so sure he could talk his way out of it. The last thing he wanted was to have her think her only grandchild had gone loony.

She sat by the fireplace, even when it wasn’t lit, knitting a sweater. Opposite to her, he tried unsuccessfully to focus on the page of his novel. His hands kept on shaking, forcing him to pull his legs to his chest and rest the book there. Unable to focus on the words, he switched to his phone, hoping to burn off the extra energy playing games. Except that didn’t work, either, because he fidgeted too much and kept missing the target. After a frustrating ten minutes, he laid limp on the sofa, phone dismissed in favor of playing with the stone around his neck and staring off into space.

“Honey, have you gotten too much coffee today?” his grandmother asked with a small chuckle, looking at him over the rim of her glasses.

“What?” he asked, distracted.

She laughed again. “You haven’t been able to sit still for five minutes. Normally, all it takes is a good book or your phone to wrestle your restlessness.”

At her prompting, Junhui sat up and wound his hands around his knees, coercing them to behave. “Sorry, I’m just…” He waved his hands around, prompting her to laugh again. “You know.”

“Mm.”

He expected her to further comment on his strange conduct, but she went back to knitting. Unable to hold it in any longer, he tentatively started to speak. Maybe she could offer some advice even if he didn’t tell her the whole truth. Like how to get a boy out of his head.

“Um, Grandma?” His voiced sounded so small, it surprised him. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Grandma?”

She looked up, “Yes, Junhui?”

Seeing her gentle eyes settle on him, he chickened out. “Would you like more tea? I’m pretty sure the teapot is practically empty.” She chuckled, shaking her head a little. “If it’ll help those antsy limbs of yours, sure. Go ahead.”

He picked up the pot of hot water, but realized that it was already cool. “I’ll put it back on the stove for a minute.”

Once he got to the door, she called out, “Oh, Junhui! I almost forgot. Could you go check on our guest? The gentleman is in room four.”

He nodded, “’Kay. Be right back.”

After setting the kettle on the stove, he climbed back upstairs. Might as well see that the guest had settled in okay and didn’t need anything now, while he waited for the water to boil. Instead of turning left into his grandmother’s corridor, he swerved right toward his own room, stopping in front of the opposite door. Since this one overlooked the vineyards in the distance, a lot of guests requested for it. Junhui sure hoped the guest wasn’t rude or bossy. With everything that happened today, he really didn’t want to get roped into errands or hear complaints.

_Knock, Knock, Knock._

He tugged on his sleeves while he waited for the person to open the door. This was protocol, making sure that the guests had everything they needed to ensure their comfort and enjoyment. Unfortunately, he didn’t always receive a friendly response.

In the time it took the door to open, he went over once again his “Welcome to _Healing Bites_ , if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant, please let us know!” speech in his head. It never hurt to rehearse, regardless of how many times he’d had to repeat it over the years.

The old hinges creaked, prompting him to look toward the guest.

The smile froze on his lips.

Leaning against the door frame, Wonwoo grinned at him. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Junhui. Good evening. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked casually, eyes as green as a field. Clearly, he found the situation very amusing.

Junhui took a step back, flabbergasted. “Why are you here?” he nearly shouted in desperation.

He cocked a brow, “I’m renting the room. Didn’t your grandmother tell you?”

Junhui stopped himself from answering the silly question, replying instead, “That’s not important.” He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “She asked me to check up on our guest, so here I am.”

“How sweet of you,” he cooed. “Do you do that for all your guests, or am I special?”

If it weren’t for his grandmother sitting only a few doors down the hall, Junhui would have thrown a tantrum. He knew Wonwoo was messing with him, but he still couldn’t help it. Puffing out his cheeks, he glared at him with all the frustration he could muster.

“I thought you said you were much better in flesh and blood,” he retorted. “So far, I find that hard to believe.” The Wonwoo in his dreams teased him a lot, but he was sweet about it. Whereas this Wonwoo probably found pleasure in riling him up, toying with him.

The moment Junhui finished talking, the lighthearted expression on Wonwoo’s face changed. In an instant, his eyes darkened, and the smirk turned sharper. “Oh, really.” He pushed himself away from the door frame and right into Junhui’s personal space, backing the latter against the wall, caging him in with his arms.

Junhui inhaled sharply, eyes wide, all bravado dropped. “W-wait!” His hands flew out to push against the other’s chest. Not that he budged. But Junhui’s heart was ready to leap out of his own chest any second now; he had to do something to avoid dying on the spot.

Chuckling, Wonwoo nudged his temple with his nose, voice as smooth as silk. “Didn’t you want me to show you, princess?”

“I…” Junhui gulped, screwing his eyes shut. Wonwoo was so close, he could feel his heat all around him. The crisp scent of flowers and sunshine made it difficult for Junhui to find a reason to stop. Somehow, he managed to supress the temptation. “I… I’d rather you tell me what’s going on. How can you be here?”

Straightening out in order to meet his gaze, Wonwoo still appeared too collected, completely unfazed. “You’ve had such a long and tiring day.” He stroked the boy’s heated cheek. “Wouldn’t you rather rest? I can keep you company.”

Such a tempting offer…

Right before Junhui’s eyes glazed over, a sudden realization hit him: if he sleeps, whenever he sleeps, he sees Wonwoo. No way was Junhui going to get even more mixed up about this. Unless he found a way to get Wonwoo out of his dreams, he was sure to go insane. But he needed to know the reason for Wonwoo’s sudden appearance in his life first.

“Why are you here?” Junhui insisted.

Just when Wonwoo opened his mouth to speak, the kettle hissed angrily in the kitchen. They both looked down the hall toward the stairs, then back to each other’s face.

“Looks like you’re gonna have to wait ‘till later for that answer, princess,” Wonwoo smirked. And with that, he stepped back, effectively releasing whatever spell he’d casted on the boy.

“Or you can come see me later tonight.” he teased, eyes flashing green.

“Gah!” Junhui muffled his scream and sprinted downstairs. He really wanted to avoid the awkward situation of his grandmother stepping into the hall, wondering why he didn’t go turn off the stove, and finding him in a compromising position with their newest guest.

_No no no no._

With an angry jerk, he turned off the switch, quieting the kettle. Instead of pouring the water into the teapot right away, he leaned against the table and watched the puffs of smoke escaping.

Alone, he stomped his feet in hopes of dispelling some of the embarrassment and frustration.

Stupid, irritable, beautiful dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wonwoo, you're so meannnnn! ~~wonu is lowkey sadistic... fortunately, junnie is a lowkey masochist~~
> 
> but notice how well wonu manages to get out of answering jun's questions _every_ single time 😩 don't worry, we'll get some answers next chapter. woot woot!
> 
> Wonwoo's eye colors: these are the colors we've seen so far. as i told some of you, jun will try to tell us what they mean, but even he fails to understand the hidden meaning of one particular color. (if you think about it and relate it to WonHui's colors, you'll get it lol)
> 
> Purple: neutral/calm  
> Green: amused  
> Blue: excited/extremely happy  
> Gold: frustrated/dissatisfied/annoyed  
> (more to come~)
> 
> Ch. 3 is kinda long, so i'll post it in a couple days. After that, i think i'll stick to once a week like the other chaptered fics. but we shall see! we're all stuck at home, soo... hahaha
> 
> As always, thank you very much for reading! see you soon!  
> xoxoxo


	3. Delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many deliveries are made to _Healing Bites_ , including one specifically for Wonwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMJ YOU GUYS THE MV FOR FALLIN FLOWER DROPPED AND WE WON!!!!! WONHUI NATION RISE!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✿✼:*ﾟ♡*･ﾟﾟ✿✼:*ﾟ･*✧✩°｡⋆⸜(ू˙꒳˙ )
> 
> and then junnie did a piano cover for it, too! aaaaaaaahhhhh!!! 
> 
> so um. yes. sorry. since i had no brain capacity beyond shouting and crying over wonhui, the chapter came out a day late. i'm sorry.... T_T
> 
> BUT! it's got a bit more action this time around, and it's long-ish, so hurray!
> 
> WARNING: mention of blood around the midpoint.
> 
> -

For a week now, Junhui had been suffering from a constant state of agitation, all due to one person. And _he_ knew it, too. Not a single day had gone by without some teasing remark, and just like clockwork, Junhui’s knees had threatened to buckle, and his heart skipped numerous beats. It really didn’t help that they were room neighbors.

On the positive side, he no longer received a shock whenever he spotted Wonwoo sitting among the patrons of _Healing Bites_. It had become normal for him to occupy table 17 in the far corner, only ordering food from Junhui, and occupying himself with some sort of writing. The fact that he always smoothly hid the paper from the young waiter’s eyesight did raise suspicions, but considering Wonwoo’s entire existence was currently the definition of suspicious, Junhui let it slide. He figured Wonwoo wouldn’t give him a proper answer even if he asked, hence his decision to swallow down the questions for the time being—he’ll eventually find some way to get answers out of him! Junhui vowed. Although to be honest, he had no idea _when_ he would even have the time, considering the state of the restaurant.

As it became routine for Wonwoo to occupy table 17, _Healing Bites_ also augmented its number of daily customers. Everyday, they served a full house, reducing the leftovers by the end of the evening to mere crumbs. They went through their supplies in the blink of an eye, and Junhui was sent on errand runs as soon as a tiny lull in business appeared. To think that just last week, he had sat around doing nothing but chat with Bora about hotdogs for a full hour.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he wondered if Wonwoo could somehow be responsible for the surge of customers. Really, after everything that happened, he wouldn’t put it past him. But for what purpose? To keep Junhui from asking too many questions? That sounded silly even to him. Moreover, no matter how much the restaurant kept Junhui running around, it couldn’t keep Wonwoo out of his head. For numerous reasons.

On the first night, he had expected to get very little rest. Not only was Wonwoo physically staying in the room across the hall, he would also appear in Junhui’s dreams. The latter expected them to pick up their interrupted conversation then, prompting him to ready his mind for a battle of wit, even rearing himself to wrestle Wonwoo if need be (the chances of winning were most likely abysmal, but he wasn’t going to let logic stop him!). He tossed around endlessly all night, only to wake up at dawn, completely astounded.

Wonwoo didn’t come.

The one time Junhui wanted him to show up, he played hooky. Granted he didn’t always appear, Junhui was so certain that he would last night.

Not to say that he didn’t dream, but instead of being transported to the flower valley, his mind kept replaying the encounter with Wonwoo in the hallway like a faulty video. Was this Wonwoo’s doing, too? A trick he played to toy with Junhui some more? Or was it just a result of his own restlessness? Could Wonwoo no longer enter his dreams now that he lived in the real world? Wonwoo claimed to be real, but what if he had initially been a figure of Junhui’s imagination, and somehow, he gained the ability to become real? If that were the case, then it would make sense that he’d only appear in one form.

Laughing in disbelief, Junhui threw an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was pondering the logic of such an illogical situation. The one person who held all the answers refused to share them, so really, what choice did he have?

Maybe, for his own sanity, he’ll treat this situation like one of his fantasy books. Suspend his sense of disbelief. He’ll accept that somehow, his life had gotten too much for him to handle properly.

Who knew? Maybe this entire thing was a fever dream caused by heatstroke or something.

* ･ﾟﾟ･ * ✿ ⋆ :°* ❀ * ･ﾟﾟ･ *

On his way back from the store, Junhui spotted a familiar blond across the street, exiting the floral shop with one of the employees following after him. He had never seen Wonwoo outside of the restaurant, much less interacting with anyone but him. The sight was so foreign, he stopped walking, setting the heavy shopping bags on the low wall by his side.

Sunshine settled on the golden locks, causing them to glisten almost as brightly as Wonwoo’s grin as he spoke to the girl in the apron. They stood too far away for Junhui to overhear their conversation, but he didn’t need to hear the words to understand they were very pleasant. The florist’s daughter giggled and blushed, nodding excitedly at whatever Wonwoo told her. Even at such a distance, Junhui could visualize the stars in her eyes.

Did he look as flustered as this girl whenever Wonwoo used his charms on him?

As the memories of all the times Wonwoo flirted with him juxtaposed to the scene in front of his eyes, Junhui felt a sharp pang in his chest. He closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping to assuage the uncomfortable sensation. He had no right—no reason—to feel this way. He and Wonwoo weren’t together by any means, and the latter was free to talk to anyone he wished. Junhui shouldn’t have been spying on him in the first place. Even if it was by coincidence that he walked in on the scene, he should have kept going. It was his own fault for witnessing something unpleasant.

Grabbing the shopping bags, Junhui turned the corner and returned to the restaurant at a faster pace.

He was glad to note upon his return that his short detour didn’t cause the restaurant any damage. The crowd hadn’t doubled in size or anything crazy, and the cooks hadn’t run out of ingredients yet. Quickly, he slipped behind the counter to replenish the shelves. He had to stop a couple times to take care of customers, so his task took longer than it should. When he finally reemerged and glanced out at the floor, Wonwoo walked through the door, causing the little bell to chime. Junhui’s heart did a flip without his permission, and he scowled at it.

“What’s gotten you pouting like that, princess?”

Startled, Junhui blinked and jumped back a little at Wonwoo’s sudden appearance across the counter. Green eyes settled on him, and Junhui made a face. “I’m not pouting.”

“No?” Wonwoo laughed, taping his cheeks. “Then what’s this face for?”

His heart skipped a beat yet again, and he scrambled to find something to do. He grabbed his water bottle. “It’s your fault, anyway,” he mumbled, uncapping it to talk a gulp.

“Me?” The perfect image of innocence, Wonwoo gasped. Only to turn into a demon in the next second, eyes glinting. “Oh, did you miss seeing me at night that much?” he smirked.

Junhui nearly choked. “Wha—”

But Wonwoo continued, “Was my invitation not explicit enough?” he winked. “I’m just across the hall.”

Heat engulfed his entire body, probably turning him as red as his hair. “I… I need to take inventory!” he cried out, then made a run for it.

Wonwoo’s deep laughter rang out above the sound of his erratic heartbeat.

The following couple hours, Junhui moved around the restaurant like a cat burglar. He didn’t lie when he said he needed to take inventory. Except that he couldn’t just stay holed up in the storage room indefinitely. He had to take notes of the supplies they had down here and compare them with what the kitchen currently had in its cupboards. Whatever needed to be restocked, he had to retrieve and then write down more notes for his next shopping trip and online orders.

So far, he had not gotten caught yet. Which was mainly thanks to his reliance on the employee’s route, connecting the kitchen directly to the storage room. Normally, Junhui avoided taking the route, even if it was convenient and shorter, because it was plain creepy. For all intents and purposes, it was a tunnel. A tunnel that always made his skin crawl. But he would rather fight his way through the gloomy tunnel than risk melting into a puddle in the middle of the restaurant.

“Okay,” Junhui nodded to himself. “Almost done. Next up, the wine.” With a quick peek through the kitchen window, he ensured that Wonwoo was otherwise occupied, then slipped out. He made sure to stoop, hidden by the counter. He was glad that all the adults were too busy tending to the customers, otherwise, they would have blown his cover by asking what he was doing.

Arriving at his goal, he whipped out his notepad and jotted down the number of bottles, as well as the brands. Back to the storage room.

Although he hated himself for doing it, he couldn’t help glancing at the far corner again. Just a peek to make sure Wonwoo hadn’t spotted him, he justified. Still squatting on the floor, he leaned around the edge of the counter.

His expression fell. Wonwoo wasn’t there. Had he left while Junhui took notes just now? A flash of Wonwoo talking to the florist crossed his mind, and Junhui recoiled. Where Wonwoo went and with whom he spent his time didn’t concern him.

Sighing, he pushed himself to his full height. There was no need to hide anymore.

Walking into the storage room, he navigated his way to the back wall where they kept their wine bottles. After checking them off, he pulled the appropriate ones out of the rack and set them aside. He should have grabbed a box from the recycling pile, he thought, eyeing the thirteen bottles. Well, he was sure he could find a box big enough down here.

He rummaged through the shelves, taking the opportunity to organize items and clean up a little to free up space. Unable to find a container big and sturdy enough for the job, he glanced toward the upper shelves. Hayun had a tendency to hoard empty boxes up there and then forget about them. Since they were light, they were kept on the highest shelf. He grabbed a stool and climbed up.

What a mess!

Grimacing, he gingerly picked a box by its flap and shook the sticky cobwebs off of it. He coughed a few times and sneezed from all the dust. One day, he’ll have to remember to come back with a vacuum cleaner. He uncluttered the mess as best as he could, stacking the small and medium boxes together. Just when he contemplated simply carrying the wine bottles up two at a time to save himself from this chore, he spotted a sturdy-looking crate in the back. _Hurray!_ His efforts weren’t all in vain, after all.

Getting on his tiptoes, he leaned forward to grab it.

Suddenly, a low and unnerving rumble shook the ground. Junhui barely had time to think _‘Earthquake?’_ that the entire room shook with more vigor. He instinctively leaned his weight on the wall for balance. The items on the shelves began to roll off and fall to the ground one by one. Glass shattered all around him, and metal cans hit the floor systematically in heavy thuds. The bolts fastening the steel shelves to the walls rattled out of their holes, some even dropping to the floor. Something bulky crashed. Junhui winced, curling into himself.

He had to get down and find shelter.

No sooner had the thought flittered through his mind that the stool beneath his feet creaked menacingly.

_No no no no!_

Junhui dropped to his haunches, but it was too late. One of the legs broke, sending him backward. “Ah!” Reflexively, he reached out and gripped onto the edge of the shelf, eyes screwed shut. But the momentum was too strong, and he brought the shelf down with him.

A fraction of a second after landing on the ground, pain finally registered. The back of his head throbbed, and his body ached. Biting back a cry, he cracked open his eyes. The earthquake had passed. He laid in the middle of something wet, with sharp and pointy objects poking him everywhere. It hurt, but he could still wiggle his toes. When he tried to move his fingers, however, acute pain shot up his arm. The cry escaped as he stared in confusion at the red liquid staining his limbs and torso. Was this his blood or wine? His vision was blurry, the headache unbearable. He couldn’t think.

“Junhui?” A voice marred with panic called out from somewhere. With the buzzing in his ears, he couldn’t determine the source.

“Ngh…” he groaned, trying to sit up.

“Junhui, don’t move. I’m here.” Hurried footsteps approached. The person kicked aside debris and lifted boxes out of their way. Would his rescuer even manage to find him in this mess? He wanted to sit up and call out to them, but he resigned himself to following instructions, staying put. It hurt too much, and he didn’t want to worry them more than he probably already had.

So he laid there, hazy mind going in and out of consciousness.

At last, the person created a path and found their way to him. They knelt by his side, hands checking over his body in a methodical but gentle manner.

“Ow…” he whined, closing his eyes and seeking comfort.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” the person whispered, momentarily ceasing their assessment to brush the hair out of his eyes. The touch felt warm and familiar. In the dim glow of the flickering light, Junhui could barely see their face hidden in the shadows.

“H-hurts,” he cried, wincing when the other resumed the check up of his limbs.

“I know, kitten, I know. Just hang on for me, okay? Can you do that?” If Junhui weren’t so dizzy and hurting, he would have noticed the hint of terror under the layers of calmness and reassurance.

“Mm…”

“Good boy.” One hand still cradling the side of Junhui’s face, the other gently caressed his forehead.

The moment the touch left his skin, the ringing in his ears stopped and the headache vanished. He blinked, trying to get his bearings, squinting at the discomfort and numbness. His head didn’t pound anymore, but it felt like he was underwater. His senses dulled and foggy.

“Does it still hurt?”

Slowly, he turned his gaze toward the person tending to his injuries. Locks of blond hair fell into purple eyes.

“Wonwoo?” Was he dreaming? His own voice sounded so far away. “H-how did you find me?”

“Don’t move.” Gently but firmly, he kept Junhui flat on the ground to minimize his movements. “I need to examine your arm.”

It stung wherever he probed, and Junhui hissed, jerking away.

“Shh, I’m sorry.” He held Junhui down by the shoulder. “Nothing seems to be broken, but you’re bleeding quite a lot.” So the red liquid really was his blood.

Junhui lifted his gaze slowly from Wonwoo’s red-stained hands to his face. It was contorted into a fierce and wary expression. At some point, his eyes had turned color again. No longer the serene color of the twilight sky, they had become as dark as anthracite—stormy clouds for a tempestuous mood. Why was he so distraught and angry? Because of Junhui?

Instead of the harsh and biting words he expected to come with the irritation, Wonwoo asked him softly, “Close your eyes, Junhui.” After a shaky exhale and a lot of effort, his eyes lightened to a silver.

It only served to confuse Junhui even more. “Huh? Why?”

“Please, trust me.” Wonwoo looked so worried and conflicted, but Junhui didn’t understand the reason. He knew his injuries must be serious, requiring a stitches most likely, but why—

“Please,” Wonwoo pleaded again. His earnest voice won him over.

“Okay.” Junhui nodded and closed his eyes. He felt Wonwoo’s hand cover the wound cautiously. Suddenly, a sharp sting jerked him off of the floor. He screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. He yanked on his arm, wanting the pain to stop. “H-hurts! Wonwoo—hurts!”

But Wonwoo kept his fingers around his arm, refusing to let go. Despite Junhui’s flailing, he managed to get a hold of him. He hitched Junhui up and pressed him to his torso. Junhui latched onto him like a lifesaver, burying his face into the crook of his shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Wonwoo whispered close to his ear. “You’re okay. It’ll be over soon.”

Gradually, his promise proved to be true. The pain began to recede, along with the cloudiness that swirled inside his head. His muscles could finally let go of their tension, and Junhui slumped against Wonwoo’s chest. He could hear the other’s heartbeat, seemingly slowing down, too.

“You can open your eyes now.”

When Junhui fluttered his eyelids open, he found himself sitting with Wonwoo on the cold cement ground. He looked around in shock, head whipping from side to side.

“What…”

No glass shards, no spilled wine, no collapsed shelves. The stool stood in perfect condition in the corner of the room. All the boxes and crates were stacked neatly in their respective places. No food stains on the floor. The lights were working, and the bulb shone brightly. His clothes were clean.

It was like nothing had happened.

His eyes snapped to his arm, then widened in shock. The wound was completely healed. No. More like there had never been any wound to begin with. Junhui rubbed his eyes twice to make sure they weren’t deceiving him. Flexing his arm slowly, Junhui felt no pain. He poked at the spot.

“How—what did you do?”

“Are you feeling better? Does anything else hurt?” Wonwoo asked, ignoring the question.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you. But what happened? How did you even get in here?” he pressed on. How could he not ask questions now?

Wonwoo got to his feet slowly, pulling the other with him. Steadying him, he looked at Junhui’s face more intensely, as if searching for something in his expression. “I was outside when I heard the commotion. I figured you fell, so I came running to the rescue.” He flashed an easy smile. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait!” Junhui grabbed his wrist and refused to move. “I didn’t fall! There was a weird earthquake and—”

“There was no earthquake, Junhui,” Wonwoo cut in. The seriousness of his expression had a finality to it. While his eyes remained purple, it was obvious that this incident troubled him greatly, too. “Nothing happened down here.”

Junhui shuddered at the chilling tone. “Why aren’t you telling me anything?” he asked in a small voice.

Wonwoo took in a deep breath, seemingly thawing a little upon seeing the boy’s distress. “The less you know, the safer you are.”

“What does that even mean?” He stomped his foot, gripping Wonwoo’s wrist tighter in frustration.

Patting his cheek, Wonwoo offered him an agonized smile. “You don’t want to know, princess.”

Junhui stared at him for a while, not grasping the level of importance of which he spoke of. What could he possibly be hiding? Did it have anything to do with his sudden appearance in Junhui’s life? People didn’t go around saying things like ‘the less you know, the safer you are’ unless they hid something dangerous. Was Wonwoo in some kind of trouble? He couldn’t be running from the law, could he? Wait, that didn’t explain the weirdness that had been happening this past week.

Once again, Junhui was stumped.

Wonwoo’s silvery purple eyes lingered over his face for another second, before they flickered toward his throat. A shadow crossed over his features. Reaching up, he pulled on the dangling blue stone and tucked it back under the collar of Junhui’s shirt.

“You should take the afternoon off. There won’t be any more customers for the day, apart from some family friends,” he stated.

His brows pulled together. “But—”

Before he could argue further, Wonwoo put a hand over his lips. “You need rest. There’s no point in arguing,” he added.

“I’m fine, really—” As soon as Junhui stepped forward, he tripped over his own laces.

Wonwoo caught him around the waist, shooting him an ‘I told you so’ look. It took all of Junhui’s self-restraint not to let his inner bratty self retort.

All the way to his room, Wonwoo kept one arm steadily around him, making sure Junhui would not fall flat on his face, he presumed. Which turned out to be good foresight, since climbing the flight of stairs caused him to get a bit of vertigo.

Wonwoo’s amazing foresight aside, Junhui was even more shocked at the realization that he had been correct earlier, when he insisted that there had been no earthquake. Junhui couldn’t find any trace of it anywhere he looked. Not in the restaurant, not among the chatter of the customers, not even between the aunties and his grandmother. In fact, no one seemed to pay him and Wonwoo any attention at all.

Did he actually die and become a ghost? Was that why no one saw him? Wait, but what did that make of Wonwoo? Was _he_ a ghost?

Junhui felt like his head was going to explode.

The pair got to his door, and Wonwoo led him to the bed, sitting him down on the soft mattress.

“Sleep,” he ordered.

“No. Not until you give me some explanation.” Junhui crossed his arms over his chest. Determined.

Sighing, Wonwoo shook his head. “Don’t be a brat.”

“You’re the brat!”

He rolled his eyes. “Junhui.”

“Wonwoo.”

Staring at him through narrowed eyes, he clicked his tongue. Then his expression gradually relaxed, and he grinned. Junhui sensed trouble; he squirmed.

“Unless you want the pain to starts kicking back in, you better sleep, princess.” Leaning over him, he added, “Sedating the pain is quite easy, but bringing it back isn’t much of a challenge, either,” he threatened. Then as Junhui gaped at him, he flashed another grin and gracefully walked toward the door.

“You are such a... jerk!” he exclaimed. “Horrible mean bully!”

But Wonwoo didn’t seem to mind the insults. He just chuckled once and spun around. “Yet you can’t stop dreaming about me,” he retorted, self-satisfied.

That cut his next words off completely. Doe eyes turned round with shock and a bit of panic at the realization that his secret wasn’t so secret after all.

After that first night where all he could see were those instant replays of Wonwoo toying with him, the ones following were much less dramatic. They were all previous dreams he’d had of Wonwoo, which had led him to believe that the actual Wonwoo staying across the hall from him couldn’t enter his dreams anymore. Hence, the “re-runs” that his mind conjured up.

However, if Wonwoo knew of what Junhui dreamed, then did that mean he still visited him? If that were the case, why didn’t he appear?

Seeing that he had successfully confounded Junhui once more, Wonwoo chuckled and exited the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Junhui groaned and buried his head under the bed covers.

The next morning, when Junhui came downstairs, he learned that Wonwoo had accurately predicted the flow of customers. At this point, Junhui should no longer be surprised (maybe Wonwoo’s big secret was that he had psychic powers). His grandmother and Hayun said that after the lunch rush, only the regulars stopped by, accounting only for a handful. For the first time in a week, _Healing Bites_ closed early, and its staff got their much deserved rest.

To explain his sudden disappearance, Junhui feigned a headache, which considering what he went through, wasn’t much of a stretch. Thankfully, he had texted Hayun yesterday after Wonwoo left his room to tell her, so no one hounded him for answers now.

The morning passed without any peculiar event, unless you counted the fact that Wonwoo ordered breakfast without teasing him. He should be happy and relieved to be left alone.

Unfortunately, Junhui was a glutton for punishment. After what happened yesterday, he had become even more obsessed with Wonwoo and the secrets he held. The lack of teasing remarks worried him a little. Was Wonwoo okay? Junhui couldn’t go a few minutes without occasionally throwing a furtive glance toward him, checking on him. When Wonwoo actually did speak to him, he hung on to every word, hoping to catch something significant. It was… pathetic. And probably unhealthy.

Following yesterday’s trend, the flow of customers was manageable, which gave him ample of opportunities to sneak glances toward table 17. Not good. With a sigh, Junhui went to grab his water bottle behind the counter.

Waiting for him was a package of sweet bread. No one on staff liked sweets much, so whose was it? Hayun happened to walk past.

“Is this yours?”

She glimpsed at the bun in his hand. “No, aren’t you the one with the sweet tooth?” she laughed. “It’s probably from Grandma, hm?”

“Oh, okay.” Not giving it much thought, he unwrapped the plastic and munched on it, smiling contently at the fluffiness. He was still a little hungry afterward, but he figured he could sneak into the kitchen for a snack a bit later.

At least, that was the plan.

When he returned to the counter after throwing the wrapper in the trash, he found another bun at the station.

What…

Suspicious, he searched around him, but nothing seemed out of place. A quick look toward table 17 showed Wonwoo deep in thought, head bowed toward that piece of paper again. If he wasn’t responsible, then who was? Mouth forming a thin line, Junhui unwrapped the bread and ate it, the gears in his head spinning slowly as he thought.

Before he could come up with something plausible, a customer requested his attention, so he threw the trash away and hurried out onto the floor. He didn’t get a chance to sit down until past the lunch rush. At that point, he noticed a trail of candy. Or more specifically, of little packets of jelly snacks. The trail led him from the back of the restaurant toward one of the large windows, where a basket was placed on the sill. Inside, more than a dozen packets were left.

Junhui picked up the basket and checked for some sort of note. Did someone plan on using this as gifts for the guests? In that case, why was it tucked away here where no one would see it?

The little bell above the door jingled, pulling his attention away from the basket of candy, to see a delivery man holding an electronic device. He poked his head in, searching for a staff member. Spotting Junhui in uniform, he smiled politely.

“Hello! Can I keep the door open for a second? I don’t want to damage the flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Yeah. I’ll bring them right in.” With a nod, he pushed the door wide and flipped the stopper.

Junhui stepped aside, peeking through the window to see him go to the truck and retrieve a huge and intricate arrangement. He couldn’t help let out a low ‘Wow!’ It must have cost a fortune. Who ordered flowers? And for what occasion? If it was someone on staff, he would know, right?

“Here we go!” the delivery man exclaimed, carrying it inside. “Where do you want it?”

“Uh.” A little at a loss, Junhui spun around, floundering a bit. “Over here is fine.” He didn’t want the poor man to have to hold it for too long; it looked heavy. So he pointed to a random empty table. He could just relocate it somewhere else later. “Thank you!”

“No problem. Enjoy!”

“Wait, uh, can you tell me who the sender is?”

“Oh, sure.” Wiping his hand on the side of his jeans, the delivery man pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. “Huh.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong. But looks like the person wanted to say anonymous.” He laughed, joking, “Did you happen to serve the President or something?”

“Not that I know of.” Junhui chuckled. “But thank you.”

“Sure, sure! Have a good day!”

“You, too!”

After seeing the delivery man off, Junhui returned to the majestic bouquet and searched it for some kind of note. Seeing none, he resigned to heaving it up and moving it to the counter for everyone to admire.

Bora left the kitchen for a drink at that moment and saw the flowers. “Oooh! They’re beautiful! Where did they come from?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Someone just came to deliver them a minute ago. They didn’t leave a name”

“Hm. How mysterious~” she laughed. “Well, whoever you are, thank you!”

Junhui nodded, fixing the crooked bow.

Bora returned to the kitchen, and he checked in on the customers, refilling their drinks and bringing out their bills.

The bell jingled again, and yet another delivery man entered. This one Junhui recognized. He worked for the local bakery a few blocks away, and he came in sometimes for beef soup.

“Hey, Jun.”

“Hi, Alex. For here or to-go?”

“Oh, no. I’m here to deliver your cakes. I’ll swing by later for dinner.”

“Wait, cakes? We didn’t order any cake.”

“You didn’t?” Alex scratched his head. “But I have an order for seventeen lemon cakes.”

“What?” Grabbing the tablet he extended out, Junhui checked the invoice. “I think there’s some kind of mistake. Can you take them back?”

“Uh, I could, but they’ve already been paid for.”

Even more confounded, Junhui blinked at him, mouth agape. “What?”

Alex shrugged. “It’s free cake, right?”

“I… guess?”

“Okay, great! Sign that for me, while I bring them in.” Alex motioned toward the tablet and jogged out to the van. He returned a second later with a huge cardboard box.

Slightly overwhelmed, Junhui thanked him and took in a deep breath. Where was he going to store all seventeen cakes? Did their fridges even have the space? He could try the one in the storage room.

Hayun’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “All of these?” she asked in shock.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Junhui looked over his shoulder and let out a startled cry. Two flower trucks had parked out front, back doors pulled open to reveal a jungle of colors. One by one, the men grabbed a vase and walked into the restaurant to deposit them wherever they could find the room. Hayun continued to chat with the staff, helping the ones carrying the largest arrangements move around tables.

By the time they finished, flowers filled every nook and cranny of the restaurant. As beautiful as the scene looked, it felt surreal. He couldn’t even count how many bouquets there were in total. In awe, he gingerly caressed the petal of a rose, breathing in the light fragrance diffused throughout the large space.

Hayun whistled, hands on her hips as she spun in a small circle. “My goodness. Looks like someone really wanted your attention, kiddo. Wish my husband had put as much effort into courting me.”

His stomach flipped, and heat rushed to his face. “What are you talking about? These aren’t for me! They’re for the shop, right?”

“They’re addressed to you, though.” She plucked a card at random and flipped it over. “See?”

Unable to handle the influx of information and emotions passing through him, Junhui clasped his hands over his burning face. _What is happening?_ He screamed internally.

“Ah, youth!” Hayun said wistfully, patting his shoulder as she walked by to tend to a table, he guessed.

When strange and impossible things occurred, he could only blame one person. Turning around, he noticed someone in the far corner, hardly able to contain himself. Wonwoo was laughing so hard no sound came out of his mouth. With his head thrown back and nose scrunched, if Junhui weren’t in such a distressing state, he would have found him the most adorable. It was very distracting, but Junhui glared harder.

Noticing Junhui’s attention on him, Wonwoo grinned lazily at him, eyes the brightest shade of green. Beautiful, but right now, all Junhui wanted to do was hit him and maybe sit on him until he explained himself and the bizarre flood of flowers and cakes.

He resisted the urge to throw a tantrum in public. Instead, he took in a deep breath and marched over to table 17, plopping himself in the chair opposite of Wonwoo’s.

“Is—Is this some new game of yours?” he hissed, waving his arms all around to indicate the jungle of flowers. Now that he paid a bit more attention, the placements of the bouquets made it seem as though the two of them were in their own little bubble, set apart from the rest of the world. His heart skipped a beat, but he shook his head, focusing on the matter at hand.

Wonwoo gazed at him with an indulgent smile. “You wound me, princess. After all the trouble I went through to bring you your favorites.”

Puzzlement swept over him, smoothing out his frown. “Huh?”

He plucked a stem of blue salvia, flicking it back and forth as he spoke. His eyes returned to violet. “You seemed a little down lately, and I didn’t like that. Plus, you got hurt yesterday.”

Sensing his face heating up again, Junhui dropped his head on the table, warm cheek pressed to the cool surface. He closed his eyes and groaned, hiding behind his hands. “You wanted to cheer me up by stuffing me full of cakes and burying me under a mountain of flowers?”

“Mm.” He chuckled. Reaching out, he ran his fingers through the boy’s red locks. Junhui grit his teeth in order not to let out any embarrassing sounds. It felt really good, but he was still supposed to be angry. “Don’t you like the gifts?”

Junhui groaned again. “Did your act of kindness have to be so over the top?”

“I could have bought you the entire bakery and flower shop,” Wonwoo suggested casually, and Junhui squeaked. At this point, he really couldn’t tell if the blond meant it as a joke or not.

He needed a nap. No, wait. Then he’ll see Wonwoo there, too. His heart really couldn’t handle that, either. 

He let out a sigh, slowly sitting up. “Wonwoo, honestly—”

A hand flew up to clamp over his mouth. Wonwoo’s laughter stopped. Junhui gasped.

All around them, time slowed. The busy restaurant fell into a hush, the people moved in slow motion, the chatter and white noise reduced to almost nonexistence. A silent veil had draped over the scene.

Frightened, Junhui turned to look at Wonwoo, only to see his eyes turning dark silver. A shiver ran through him. So many thoughts collided, Junhui couldn’t even keep up. Somehow, Wonwoo controlled everything that happened in the restaurant, from the sudden increase in clientele to how each individual behaved. That terrifying discovery aside, what caused Wonwoo to suddenly tense up like this?

Slowly, his hand relaxed, and he let go of Junhui. To the latter’s amazed eyes, the crowd started up again. The regular boisterous conversations and laughter, the speed of their movements. Everything returned to normal.

Not a second later, the bell chimed, and three strangers walked in. A woman, accompanied by two men.

“Jun!” Hayun called from the other side of the floor, snapping him out of the daze. She gestured for him to head for the front counter, where the new guests were headed. He gave her a thumbs-up.

“Sorry, I gotta go—”

Wonwoo caught his hand and tugged him down with a soft thud.

“Ow! What’s wrong?”

“Don’t talk to them.” He sounded… afraid. “They’re not as they come across.”

“What do you mean?”

“Junhui, let’s go! We’ve got guests waiting!” someone called, but he was too mesmerized by Wonwoo to decipher who it was.

Still holding his wrist, Wonwoo leaned over the table, eyes as dark as anthracite. “Whatever happens, do not let them know that you ever saw me or the stone, alright?” Once he received Junhui’s dazed nod, he pushed his chair out and swiftly disappeared out the door. Through the window, Junhui saw him head for the stairs leading the bedrooms.

Swallowing, Junhui cast a furtive glance toward the people who had just arrived. For them to elicit such a raw reaction from Wonwoo, they must be a special brand of scary. He had only seen Wonwoo react so seriously once. Both times, he had pleaded for Junhui to listen to him, as if the situation was of life and death. At such moments, the teasing boy who enjoyed toying with him was completely expunged from the face of the earth. Wonwoo kept so many secrets, but Junhui knew he needed to help him. He had to keep these people from discovering Wonwoo’s whereabouts.

Readying his mind, he pushed himself to his feet and headed out.

The man looked to be in his late thirties, clean and elegant at first glance, but Junhui did not miss the dangerous glint in his cold black eyes. He was tall and powerfully built, not someone to be joked around with. Or badly lied to.

“Good afternoon!” Junhui greeted in his most cheerful voice. “How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon.” He smiled, hopefully appeased. “I am looking for a friend.” Opening a small leather binder, he pulled out a pencil sketch. “Perhaps you’ve seen him?”

Junhui kept his face relaxed as he leaned over the counter and studied Wonwoo’s portrait. Inside, he shook like a leaf. The thought of these people hunting for Wonwoo petrified him. Nevertheless, he used all of his skills to shake his head in regret.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I haven’t seen anyone who looks like him around here.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” the man replied in chagrin. It looked so convincing, Junhui actually felt a pang of guilt for lying. “He said he would meet us in Wildflower Grove and help us retrieve the stone of Lenu Rowfel.” Pinning Junhui with a hard stare, he added, “I hope he didn’t get lost.”

“If you already made plans, I’m sure he’ll keep his word,” Junhui said, keeping a soft smile on his face. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the stone mentioned was the one currently hanging around his neck.

“Hmm.” The man contemplated, fingers drumming on the counter. He wore a largegold signet ring, like the ones the royalty wear in fantasy movies. “Perhaps you’re right. We may have arrived in town a bit early. Would you do me the immense favor of delivering a message for us?” he asked, voice as sweet as honey. Honey mixed with arsenic.

“Of course, but I can’t guarantee that he will come here,” Junhui said.

“Don’t fret, dear, I’m sure he’ll make an appearance eventually,” he assured him as he pulled out a flask with some liquid inside. “May I borrow a pen?”

Junhui startled as the man reached toward him. “O-of course.” Remembering the pens tucked in the pocket of his apron, he handed one to the older.

While the man jotted down his note, Junhui discretely studied the people flanking his sides. Neither looked as “friendly” as him. The woman had an even fiercer expression, her long hair flowing down like flames. Her sharp eyes flickered from one end of the floor to the other, a seemingly permanent frown set on her lips. She reminded him of evil witches who could use their powers to turn themselves beautiful, yet the powers not strong enough to diminish the wickedness from their soul.

He shuddered and switched his attention to the shorter man with light blond hair. Unlike his companions, he did not possess that classic and elegant aspect to his face or body. It must have been days since he had shaven, and from the way he showed reverence to the man in the middle, he must be working for him.

“There we go.” The first man set the pen aside and rolled the paper up to attach it to the neck of the bottle. “Please send Wonwoo our regards.”

“Y-yes,” he nodded, bowing slightly. While Junhui was given the bottle and the note, the woman’s eyes did not leave his face. He kept his focus forward, doing his best to hide how unnerved he felt.

Slowly, one by one, the group left the restaurant. As soon as Junhui was sure they were out of _Healing Bites_ and far enough away from the block, he clutched the bottle to his chest and ran up the stairs to Wonwoo’s room.

Breathlessly, he raised his fist to knock, but he heard another voice inside. A boy.

“Wonwoo, you have to come back. Warwick isn’t going to give up just because you left. Serenity Woods is infested with his guards, knocking down homes, looking for you.”

“I saw him and the others walk in here earlier. But he didn’t recognize me. The spell worked better than I dared to hope,” Wonwoo chuckled ruefully.

_Spell?_ Did Junhui hear him right? He listened closer.

“Wait, he’s downstairs?” the younger boy sounded frantic. “How can you just sit here—”

“Relax, Channie. I told Junhui to cover for me.”

To the sound of his name, he froze.

Channie paused, then asked, “Does he know?”

“No.” Wonwoo sighed. “He suspects a lot is wrong, but nothing solid.” _So there really was something out of the ordinary with him!_ Well, that much was obvious, but this sounded much more serious than anything Junhui could have come up.

“When are you planning to let him know the truth?”

Another pause.

“When the time is right, I guess.” They stopped talking.

Junhui took a deep breath, then knocked softly.

“Come in, Junhui,” Wonwoo called out.

Junhui hesitated, then pushed the door aside. He peeked, a little nervous about whom he’d find.

Wonwoo stood by his bed, rubbing his forehead wearily. Sitting in the chair by the dresser, a boy a few years younger than him sat up and smiled at him politely. Junhui inclined his head in greeting, too. He wondered how Channie and Wonwoo were related, considering the familiarity with which they spoke to each other.

“What happened?” Wonwoo asked, coming over to him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, then quickly recounted the conversation. Afterward, he handed him the flask and the message.

Wonwoo reached for them and set the bottle on the nightstand, freeing his hands to read the accompanied message.

Pacing back and forth after reading it, he threw it on the floor, clearly distressed by what was written. He cursed under his breath. Groaning, he slumped onto the edge of the bed and took his head in his hands. He rumbled the golden strands in frustration, muttering something Junhui couldn’t quite make out.

Channie watched the older for a second, then sighed. He turned to Junhui and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m Lee Chan. Wonwoo’s cousin. Sorry for meeting you for the first time like this.” He smiled, a little hesitant and guilty.

Junhui quickly wanted to dispel the discomfort. “No, no, no, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t really understand what’s happening, but it’s hardly your fault.” He put his hand out. “I’m Wen Junhui, Wonwoo’s cat toy.”

Chan didn’t understand. His brows pulled together, and the expression of guilt morphed into confusion and concern as he looked from Junhui to his cousin.

At that comment, though, Wonwoo looked up. For a split second, his stormy eyes changed to a bright field of clovers. His tone was light. “Am I really that bad to you?”

From the corner of his eye, Junhui noticed Chan picking up the discarded message and read it, but he chose to give Wonwoo his attention. He didn’t like seeing him so distressed. Attempting to cheer him up, he pouted, “Do you have to ask?”

It worked, drawing a soft chuckle from him.

Unfortunately, it vanished the second Chan worriedly stepped over and handed Junhui the note. A shadow casted over Wonwoo’s face, effacing all traces of playfulness. His eyes swirled to a cold gray.

Chan sighed. “I’m sorry, but… I think it’s time you tell Junhui the truth, Wonwoo.” He gestured for Junhui to read the message. “He’s part of it now.”

_Wonwoo,_

_How unfortunate that we were unable to meet today. I would have preferred to speak to you in person; however, I hope this message will be enough to convey my intentions._

_It has been long enough, don’t you think? We need to meet and discuss the terms properly._

_Unless you want us to return and bother the sweet and innocent boy at the inn for your whereabouts again, you will come home. That flask should take you directly to my castle._

_Do not make me wait._

_-King Stephen Warwick III._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN 😱 who are those people and what do they want with wonu? 
> 
> also, hiiiiii channie! ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾
> 
> AND THE KITTEN DROPPED WOOOOOOOOO!!! 
> 
> but god, wonu just shamelessly showers junnie with everything, huh. *cough*sugar daddy*cough* and junnie, honey... "i'm a glutton for punishment", the word you're looking for is masochist... 
> 
> i'm sure you have a looooooot of questions 😂 and i _promise_ next chapter is the actual reveal of wonu's situation. we got a tiny snippet of it here, and at least we know FOR SURE that he has powers beyond the dream world.
> 
> I will try to have the next chapter posted by either friday or saturday! 
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! ^_^  
> xoxoxo
> 
> Wonwoo's eye colors: we got a new color today!  
> Purple: neutral/calm  
> Green: amused  
> Blue: excited/extremely happy  
> Gold: frustrated/dissatisfied/annoyed  
> Silver/Anthracite: worry, anger, distress   
> (the darker the color, the stronger the emotion)


	4. Fairytale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junnie finds himself in fairytale land, and he asks a lot of questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo everyone! 
> 
> Hope you're ready to get some answers! Finally... geez, wonwoo... jk 😆
> 
> Happy Reading~
> 
> -

“You should sit down,” Chan advised, keeping his wary eyes on Junhui’s stunned expression. But the latter didn’t budge from his spot.

He lowered the piece of paper and turned to Wonwoo. Junhui’s chest tightened at the sight of distress on the other’s face as Wonwoo sat on the edge of the bed, staring blanking forward. His lips pressed into a thin line, shoulders hunched.

Whoever those strangers were, they petrified Wonwoo. Could they be the reason why he came here? Because he wanted to get away from them? However, according to what Chan had said before Junhui entered the room, he needed his cousin to return to Serenity Woods—wherever that was—before something really dire happened. Assuming that this Warwick person originated from the same place as Wonwoo and Chan, shouldn’t it make more sense for Wonwoo to _not_ return to Serenity Woods? Junhui was no expert, but logic dictated that one should not listen to a presumably evil king’s orders.

There had to be some way for Junhui to help.

Gingerly, he took a seat next to him. “Wonwoo, it wasn’t a coincidence that you showed up in my dreams, was it?” he asked quietly.

Wonwoo let out a long sigh. He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

Junhui nodded. Alright, one thing at a time. He sat there quietly, waiting until Wonwoo was ready to divulge more.

“A lot was going on…” he began, rubbing his face and leaning forward, elbows propped on his lap. “I needed a place to go and clear my head. Your dreams were just so...” He looked over his shoulder. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “They were just so nice and peaceful. I felt safe there.”

A slight look of confusion crossed Junhui’s eyes, and Wonwoo chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“A few months ago, I was going through my parents’ study, and I found something I wasn’t quite… happy about,” Wonwoo gritted out. “It was a prophecy written shortly after my birth. The more I read, the more its content scared me. My parents had deemed it important enough to hide it from me, so I couldn’t go to them, and I couldn’t trust anyone else with the secret, either. I felt trapped. Until I could figure out a way to deal with it, I needed to get away. On one of those… tries…” he hesitated, as though looking for the right words. “I found your dream.” His smile was more genuine this time. “Do you still remember?” He nearly laughed seeing Junhui’s eyes turn round.

Of course Junhui remembered the first time he saw Wonwoo. Junhui’s entire life seemed to be riddled with embarrassing and awkward situations, so it was no wonder that his dreams showed a similar trend. In that first dream, Junhui had been taking a stroll, when he spotted a cat. He approached it, and the two began a very serious conversation, exchanging ‘meows’ back and forth. Wonwoo appeared in the midst of it, hands in his pockets, teasing smirk on his lips. It was by no means a bad experience, but it was embarrassing enough to make him want to hide now.

He nodded, urging Wonwoo to continue.

The latter smiled, patting his head. “Since you didn’t seem to mind my presence, I kept coming back.” He shrugged. “Once I figured out how to cross over to your world, I took my chance. I was ready to do anything I could to stop that prophecy from become reality.”

Junhui nodded, trying to grasp all the information and make sense of it. “What did that prophecy predict to make you take such initiatives?”

Right when Wonwoo opened his mouth to answer, a low and ominous rumble—much like the one that caused Junhui’s fall yesterday—rolled under their feet. The pair bolted upright, scrambling to keep their balance. The furniture shook, and several objects crashed to the floor.

“Another bizarre earthquake?” Junhui mumbled, gripping the bedpost for support.

“Chan—!”

“Watch out!”

Everything happened so fast, Junhui wondered how his eyes captured everything. Right after Wonwoo yelled something unintelligible at Chan above the ruckus, he spun around and lunged at the flask on the nightstand. But it was too late.

The bottle shattered on the floor, releasing a cloud of murky smoke. It billowed menacingly, threatening to the swallow the entire room and the people within it.

Chan threw a bag over his shoulder and yelled back at Wonwoo a series of words Junhui couldn’t understand. Even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to pay attention. Not when his entire sight was transfixed on the smoke. It coiled and surged, quickly taking shape of a medieval castle.

The violent earthquake grew in intensity. Junhui screamed as it broke the windows and shook the foundation of the building loose. Walls cracked open, heavy wooden beams collapsed from the ceiling and crashed onto the floor.

“Junhui!” Wonwoo’s shout rung above the explosion of sounds, but Junhui couldn’t see him.

He toppled over, arms covering his head from the debris. Through his hazy vision, he saw the castle of smoke swirl and churn until it morphed into a giant pair of hands.

A terrified cry escaped his throat as he scrambled to back away. But with the ground shaking, his limbs couldn’t carry him very far. The smoke slid toward him at an alarming rate, its long fingers reaching for him. “No!”

Steady hands yanked him upward just as the black smoke encircled his ankle.

He barely had time to rejoice that another explosion erupted. He grabbed his head and ducked. He bumped into a warm body.

“I got you!” Wonwoo shouted, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulder.

Opening his eyes, Junhui realized that Chan was responsible for the second explosion. He’d thrown something at the wall, where a rough outline of a door had been drawn. Before the dust even settled, Chan charged forward.

“Come on!” Wonwoo pulled on Junhui’s hand and dragged him in the same direction. “Your family wasn’t the target. They’re going to be fine!”

Right behind them, another wooden beam crashed. Junhui’s ears rung, and he screwed his eyes shut at the sudden sting. Undeterred, Wonwoo continued to move forward, bringing the redhead with him.

An icy blast of wind rushed past them, so strong it nearly knocked them over. Junhui couldn’t open his eyes against the gale, which made the situation even more frightening. He clung to Wonwoo with all his might, forcing his legs to cooperate.

“Don’t worry, Junhui, it’s okay. We’re going to be all right,” Wonwoo reassured him gently, but the shakiness of his voice didn’t go unnoticed. He was terrified of the other side of this crazy tunnel, too, yet kept up his composure to sooth Junhui’s worries.

Junhui squeezed his hand, giving him comfort in the only way he knew how right now.

Suddenly, the earth beneath their feet disappeared. They tumbled through the air, falling from who knew what height. He couldn’t even find his voice to scream. It was completely disorienting, as though the world he’d always known had flipped upside down. He had no idea what was going on, what would happen in the next minute. He didn’t even know where he was.

The only constant—the one thing that didn’t disappear—was Wonwoo’s grip on his hand.

They crashed onto the dirt floor. Wonwoo let out an audible “Oof” and a pained groan. Junhui felt like his brain had been scrambled, and his whole body ached. This was the second day in a row that he’d fallen. He really hoped it wouldn’t become a habit. Slowly, once he was certain that they weren’t going to be whisked away by another force of nature, he slid his eyes open.

Wonwoo laid flat on the dirt, one hand on his forehead, the other still tightly wound around Junhui’s. He couldn’t even imagine how much pain Wonwoo must be suffering from. Not only did he land on his back from who knew how high, Junhui had partially fallen on him, too. Guilt twisted his insides, and Junhui bit back a cry of pain as he shifted onto his side to check on him.

Just as he reached for him, Wonwoo turned his head to look at him. “Are you all right? That wasn’t exactly the nicest way back to Serenity Woods.” He tried to laugh it off, but grimaced.

_Wonwoo_ was asking _him_ if he was okay? Wonwoo, who probably broke something.

“I’m fine.” Junhui sat up carefully. “But what about you? That was a pretty hard hit.” He reached toward him again, but Wonwoo flinched away.

“I’m great,” he answered breezily. Almost immediately, though, he winced and sucked in a breath the second he pushed himself to a sitting position.

“What’s wrong?” Junhui exclaimed. “Where does it hurt? Let me see!” He struggled to shuffle closer and make sure Wonwoo didn’t bleed somewhere, but the latter made his attempts very difficult.

To put an end to it, Wonwoo grabbed his upper arms to keep him in place. “Relax. I’m gonna be okay. It just takes a few seconds to heal.” He gave him a reassuring smile.

Junhui’s brows pulled together. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Apparently, he didn’t look convinced, because Wonwoo added, “We’re in my world now. So have a little bit more faith in me, okay?” His eyes were the clearest shade of purple. Junhui nodded, a little dazed. “Good. Trust me, I won’t die from _this_.” His tone was clearly playful, but there was something about it that unsettled Junhui.

With some effort, Wonwoo pushed himself to his feet and dusted his clothes. He looked around, seemingly searching for something—Oh! Chan! As the thought flitted through Junhui’s head, he, too, began to search for the younger. He really hoped Chan was okay.

“Ah!” Wonwoo exclaimed. “Chan’s over there. Are you going to be able to walk?”

Junhui released a breath in relief. Then he checked himself, wiggling his toes to make sure he didn’t sense anything unusual. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Let’s go.”

As it turned out, Chan didn’t land all that far away. Sitting against a large boulder, the boy breathed out a little haggardly. He gave them a thumbs-up, though, so Junhui figured he didn’t break anything, either.

While Wonwoo leaned against the rock to discuss their current whereabouts and how to get to their next destination, Junhui took the opportunity to assess his surroundings. He would finally be able to get his bearings.

Or so he thought.

His eyes widened as reality hit him. “We’re in Serenity Woods!” he spoke aloud, astonished.

His outburst prompted a chuckle from Wonwoo and an anxious gaze from Chan. Not that Junhui really noticed, since had begun to run from one spot to the next, spinning around and touching whatever he could reach just to make sure his eyes didn’t deceive him.

Faintly, he heard Chan ask, “Are you sure he’s okay?”

To which Wonwoo replied, “He’s fine. Just let him play for a bit.”

Fine with Junhui! He definitely felt like he had landed in some kind of fairytale. Everything looked so lush and beautiful. He admired the valleys of grass, the tall and large fruit trees. He walked to the dirt road and sat on his hunches to stare at the traces of horse hooves. There was even a horseshoe stuck in a shrub, most likely thrown by the animal when it galloped at high speed. Out in the distance, he spotted a few windmills, and he heard the soothing sound of a river or creek nearby.

Under the bright sunshine, all the flowers bloomed magnificently. From the wild yellow and white daisies dotting the grass, to the pink blossoms on the trees. A gentle breeze blew through, sending the light fragrance in the air.

He understood how this place got its name. He could probably spend an eternity here. Closing his eyes, he inhaled a lungful of the sweet and fresh scent, beaming happily under the warmth of the sun.

Curious, he turned toward Wonwoo, asking, “Why would you want to leave such a beautiful world?” Not even his dreams could compare to this reality. To be able to live here everyday must be wondrous.

From far away, loud shouting cut through the peaceful atmosphere. The small birds chirping on a tree nearby all flew away in fright.

“What—”

The word hadn’t even made it out of Junhui’s mouth that more shouting erupted, this time much closer, accompanied by the sound of horses charging forward. With a closer look, he spotted a group of men riding toward them, kicking up dust and frightening every living creature within a five mile radius.

“Shit. I didn’t think they’d find us so soon.” Wonwoo grabbed Chan and Junhui by the arm and ran toward a cliff.

Every alarm in Junhui’s head went off, blaring at him to stop, but he couldn’t listen to his own warnings. Not when their pursuers got closer and closer by the second. Junhui’s instinct to run overpowered all other thoughts. Adrenaline rushed through his vessels, tingling his skin.

“Duck!” Wonwoo ordered. He pressed on their heads and pushed them forward.

Chan and Junhui let out startled cries, but followed his orders blindly. All three of them dove under the low hanging branches of a large tree growing on the side of the cliff. The thick foliage hid a secret slope, and they hurriedly slid down the dirt path. They rolled to a stop on a sizable ledge below the cliff. Wonwoo once again yanked them out of sight. Tucked against the side of the cave, they waited with bated breaths.

Not a second too soon. The top of the cave rumbled as the group of men rode their horses to the cliffside. Junhui froze, fingers gripping onto Wonwoo’s shirt.

“Where did they go?” one man shouted. “You! Send word that Prince Wonwoo has returned, and that he is not alone. The rest of you, find him if you value your heads.” He barked out orders, dividing his troops. “They can’t be far from here. Find the Prince and bring him back alive to the King. Now go!” With a final shout, he pulled on the reins of his horse, forcing the poor animal to cry in agony, before galloping away.

Their little group waited for a few minutes, making sure all the guards had left. When they could no longer hear anything but the wind, and the animals began to return, they relaxed.

“That’s why,” Wonwoo said in reply to Junhui’s earlier question. However, that concern had long flown over his head. He had a completely new piece of information to process.

Gripping Wonwoo’s shirt, he stared at him with wide eyes. “ _Prince_ Wonwoo? You’re a prince?” he shouted in a whisper.

Wonwoo winced, but eventually answered with a sigh. “Yes.” When Junhui was about to ask another question, he stopped him with, “Listen, I know you probably have a lot more inquiries, and I don’t blame you, but we need to get somewhere safe before those brutes find us.”

“Okay,” Junhui agreed dejectedly, a bit stung. He let go of the shirt and stepped back. Staring at him, though, he asked, “Does that mean we’re going to your castle?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes.

Chan and Wonwoo took the lead, talking among themselves, and not paying any attention to Junhui as he trailed behind, distracted every little thing. Neither of the native citizens seemed to be particularly worried about the potential return of those guards, whom must have been sent by Warwick to capture Wonwoo—Crown Prince of Serenity Woods—alive. That detail was both reassuring as well as terrifying. If they wanted him alive, that meant that no matter what, he wouldn’t be killed right away. However, the reason behind wanting him alive disquieted Junhui. Wanting it alive did not diminish the chancesof the guards hurting him while in custody.

The ferocious chief from earlier didn’t seem like the kind of man who would allow some clemency. Junhui shuddered at the thought, rubbing his hands over his bare arms to dispel the goosebumps.

Looking at Wonwoo now, at his brilliant hair under the sunshine, his striking profile, his sultry voice, it was difficult to imagine that he was a wanted man in some impalpable danger. Most likely because Junhui didn’t understand the full extent of the danger. He knew so little of Wonwoo. Months of friendship—albeit unusual—and he hadn’t even known of Wonwoo’s real identity until a moment ago. He was familiar with Wonwoo’s presence and his behavior, his personality, but nothing else. Wonwoo was a man shrouded in mystery. Objectively speaking, Junhui shouldn’t feel this… attached to him. He’d only known him in person for over a week, and apart from a few instances, Wonwoo hadn’t exactly been the nicest guy around. Not to mention his tendency to hide everything and refuse to answer questions.

Why, then, did Junhui feel so overwhelming protective of him, as if Wonwoo’s life was as important as his own?

Junhui twirled the stem of the little flower between his fingers, gaze aligning with Wonwoo’s strong back. No matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t identify the source of his conflicting emotions.

The small group continued to walk endlessly in a world completely foreign to Junhui. His head full of questions and confusion, while his heart ached in the strangest and newest way.

After a while, they spotted a house with a vegetable garden and a few tress for shades over a hill. Junhui guessed that was their objective. The boys up front still didn’t pay him any attention, and Junhui was starting to wonder if they had forgotten he was even there because he’d been so quiet. Would it be weird if he were to cough or say something now? It’d probably be less awkward than suddenly showing up to someone’s house uninvited.

He was in the midst of timing his interjection, when they got within fifty feet of the little fence surrounding the garden. Chan turned around and grinned proudly, waving his arm toward the house.

“Welcome to my home, Junhui!”

Junhui laughed. “It’s very nice,” he said genuinely. “Thank you!”

It was a small cottage made of light blue rocks and a wooden roof. Clay pots of different sizes and shapes dotted the window sills and decorated the sides of the steps leading to the front door. In each contained dainty flowers that swayed in the breeze and attracted bumblebees. Green and fuzzy moss grew on the sides of the house, giving it a very soft and cozy look. The more Junhui stared, the giddier he felt. The house looked like it belonged in a fairytale. He almost expected to see tiny pixies flying around, leaving behind sparkly magical dust in their wake.

For a second, Junhui wondered what kind of prince Wonwoo was. Wouldn’t it be amusing if he were a fairy prince? Taking into account his over-the-top attitude toward flowers, maybe he’d be a Flower Fairy Prince. Garden Fairy?

Junhui pressed his hand to his mouth and laughed to himself.

He wasn’t conscious that his giggles were audible until Wonwoo’s voice flitted by his ear, “Someone’s in a good mood.”

He startled a little, especially noticing how close Wonwoo stood to him. But he managed to keep his composure and ask, “Do fairies exist here?”

The other arched a brow. “Why?”

Junhui shrugged, passing a hand through the bush of daisies. “I was just wondering if you were a Fairy Prince or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo shook his head. “How did you even come to that conclusion?”

“You just seem to have a thing for flowers and you’re magical.”

As he laughed, his eyes turned green. “Going by that logic, would that make you the Cat Princess?”

Junhui pouted.

To save him from the embarrassment of having no comeback, the front door opened. Chan ran up to the lady who emerged.

“Mom!”

“Thank the heavens you’re safe!” she cried, hugging him tenderly. She only came up to his chin, but she was lean and strong. Once she was certain that her son was unharmed, she turned her gaze to the people behind him.

“Wonwoo!” she gasped, the colors draining from her face. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, eyes darting from side to side as if afraid to be overheard. “You boys are going to send me to an early grave.”

“Mom!”

“Aunt Minjae!”

“I’m sorry.” Sighing, she put a hand on her forehead. “I shouldn’t be saying that.” Then her gaze finally fell on Junhui, the latter having huddled behind Wonwoo earlier. He peeked at her over Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Oh!” She offered him a warm smile. “Hello, dear.”

“H-hello, ma’am.”

Gently, Wonwoo nudged Junhui out of hiding. “It’s okay.”

As if remembering something important, her expression turned anxious again. “Let’s go in. Hurry hurry!” Like a mother hen, she shooed them inside and locked the door. “How can you be so reckless?” she muttered under her breath.

Despite the tense situation, the interior drew a small smile from Junhui. It looked so quaint and charming. The decor and furniture coming straight out of the pages of a fairytale book.

“Sit, sit, sit!” she ordered as she busied herself by the sink.

Junhui did as asked and looked around the room again, still awed, when his gaze fell on Wonwoo. The latter was intently studying him, his eyes that extraordinary purple again. Chan’s mother broke their gaze then, when she gave them all a glass of water.

With a sigh, she looked at all three of them. “I can’t believe you actually went to fetch him,” she said to Chan.

“Well, someone had to warn him,” Chan replied, sipping on his water, unrepentant.

She sighed again, but she was clearly happy to see him back, brushing back his hair. “At any rate, I see you’ve brought back a lovely guest.” Although she addressed both of them, her eyes flickered to the older of the two, and she chuckled.

To hide his blush, Junhui pretended not to see it, gulping down the entire glass of water instead.

“Right,” Wonwoo cleared his throat, throwing him a look. “Aunt Minjae, this is Wen Junhui. My cat princess.”

Eyes wide, Junhui turned to him. “Wonwoo!”

“What?”

Across the table, Minjae blinked, then laughed. “I see. So you two are very close.”

“Wait, no—” Junhui groaned and buried his head in his arms, laying limp on the table. He wanted to disappear.

Long fingers brushed through his hair, seeking to sooth. Junhui sulked and refused to show any sign that it worked.

“Junhui has been kind enough to provide me shelter and food over the past week,” Wonwoo explained, much more seriously now. “We’re…” The fingers in his hair paused for a moment as their owner mulled over his words. “We’re friends.”

A tiny needle pricked Junhui’s heart, and he scowled. What was that sensation for? Wonwoo wasn’t wrong. They were… friends, right?

Wonwoo interrupted his thoughts by tugging lightly at his hair. “Stop sulking, princess. My aunt wants to say hello.”

A little timidly, Junhui shifted and sat up.

Minjae smiled warmly at him again. “Hello, dear. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Lee Minjae. Thank you for taking care of my nephew. Knowing him, he must have been a handful; I apologize.”

Junhui shook his head and waved his hands. “No no no. You don’t need to thank me or apologize. I… I did it willingly.” His cheeks were burning. He added quickly, “And it’s nice to meet you, too, ma’am,” he bowed.

She chuckled. “There’s no need to be so formal. Aunt Min is fine.”

“Okay,” he nodded, glad she didn’t take Wonwoo’s teasing to heart.

“Now I’m sure the two of them have a lot to catch up on.” She looked at her son and nephew, receiving a confirming nod from Wonwoo. “So how about you help me with a small task, Junhui?”

At the prospect of helping, he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course!”

“Wonderful!” She clasped her hands together. “Well, you heard him. You can go discuss your secret plans without worry. I’ll take good care of your sweetheart.”

Junhui spoke too soon.

Fortunately, Wonwoo spared him this time and merely told him to behave, before leaving with Chan upstairs. Although Junhui didn’t know if it counted as _fortunate_ when no one refuted Minjae’s joke. He wanted to, of course, but she began to talk, and he didn’t think it was polite to interrupt her.

“I’ve been wanting to get this done for so long now, but I couldn’t find anyone who fit,” she said, darting from one corner of the room to another, retrieving items. They looked like sewing supplies. “Now it seems like the perfect opportunity. I tried to get the boys to help, but Wonwoo has bulked up in the past year, and Channie hasn’t grown to the right height yet.”

She set a basket down, and Junhui peeked inside to see a few pin cushions, several spools of thread varying in color, scissors, a thimble, and a few smaller boxes containing buttons. There was also some chalk and a tape measurer.

He poked at the thimble, asking, “What is that you need me to help you with?”

“My fitting model!” She dropped an armful of fabric on the table. From what he could tell, there were a few shirts, as well as some pants. “Since you’ll need to change clothes in order to blend in anyway, I can finally get these outfits finished, too!”

“Oh, okay. But are you sure it’s okay for me to wear them?”

“Of course! What creator wouldn’t want to see their creation put to good use?” she laughed. “Alright, dear. Let’s get started!”

The process was a lot less embarrassing than he had imagined. The clothes were nearly finished, only needing adjustments here and there. So Junhui put on whatever outfit she requested, then stood still for her to mark and pinch the fabric, fixing hems and whatnot.

While she worked, Junhui tried to perk up his ears in hopes of getting some information from Wonwoo’s and Chan’s conversation on the second floor. Unfortunately, the boys had turned mute. Junhui itched to know more, though. He watched Minjae work for a moment, then decided to ask. The worst outcome was her refusing to tell him. He had nothing to lose.

“Aunt Min,” he started slowly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, dear,” she replied absently, too focused on the sleeve of the shirt. “Does it feel uncomfortable anywhere?”

“Oh, no! It fits really well. I’m just wondering… Why is Wonwoo wanted by Warwick?”

She didn’t answer him right away, her movements steady as she finished the stitch. Then he heard a chair moving, and he looked to see her sit down. Her face had grown weary, the fatigue and worry showing despite her cheerful disposition.

“Wonwoo hasn’t told you anything much, has he?” she inferred.

Junhui shook his head. He was pretty sure Wonwoo would have kept his secrets forever if Warwick hadn’t interfered. “Just that he doesn’t come from my world and that he tried to escape from a prophecy made at his birth.”

She nodded, pensive. “No one was supposed to know about that prophecy. Not even Wonwoo. His parents, King Hyunwoo and Queen Minsuk, tried for twenty years to hide that from him and everyone in the kingdom. But being the curious and studious boy that he is, Wonwoo found out about it one day and took off for months. No one could reach him or knew of his whereabouts. The news soon reached the neighboring nations. One of them in particular was very interested in the heir’s disappearance.

“They asked permission to come to Serenity Woods and learn more of the situation. They deceived everyone, claiming that their intentions lied in finding the lost prince and return him home. However, while they came and went inside the castle, they unearthed the details of that prophecy, which would benefit them greatly if they got their hands on Wonwoo.

“That was when they attacked us. And won.” She looked down at her hands, eyes rimmed red. “With the kingdom so frazzled from trying to locate Wonwoo, no one expected an attack, especially from the nation of Everett, our ally.” Her voice broke.

“So many deaths... so much pain and suffering. They spent the first month turning over every single home in search for Wonwoo, thinking someone must be harboring him. They killed without an ounce of guilt or revulsion.” She clutched her dress with both hands, the knuckles turning white with the force. “Anyone who got in their way never had the opportunity to interfere again. They took control of every soldier, every commanding officer—anyone who could fight them off. The ones who refused to fall into rank were severely punished.” She raised her head and let out a long sigh, rubbing at her eyes.

Junhui handed her a handkerchief, and she smiled her thanks.

“Not long after the raid, they captured my sister and Hyunwoo, using them as hostages and a means to draw Wonwoo out, since their searches proved unsuccessful.”

Junhui’s gasp came out louder than he thought, and he put his hand over his mouth. “That’s why you ran away to the countryside,” he guessed. “Or they would have gotten you, too.”

She nodded sadly. “Since I do not bear the Royal last name, they did not deem it worth their time to track me down. Thanks to that, I’ve been able to keep Chan safe here.” The notion of her son’s safety brought back some colors to her face, and she managed to give Junhui a small smile.

“I’m sorry for bringing out such painful memories,” he said, bowing his head in shame.

She patted his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, dear, and I don’t blame Wonwoo for what he has done. It was the product of fate, and once it’s been decided, there isn’t much we can do.”

Junhui nodded, but he didn’t fully agree. While he believed in fate, it seemed foolish to sit back and do nothing while some evil king went on a rampage. He wanted to do something. Even if they were fated to lose, at least he would have no regret knowing he tried his best to overcome the odds. In order to help, he needed to know what that prophecy entailed, though.

While his mind spun, Minjae had already stood up to resume her task. He was glad to provide a distraction to her, to get her mind off of those horrible memories.

“What does that prophecy say?” he asked after a moment of silence. Her fingers didn’t stop, so it must not have been so bad, right?

“I’m afraid I don’t know, dear. No one other than the King and Queen was supposed to know, and of course, the professor who retrieved it. After Warwick got his hands on it, he’s made sure to keep the details from leaking out. Who wants competition?” she muttered bitterly. “The only person who can tell you is Wonwoo himself.”

“Right.” When the opportunity struck, Junhui would get it out of him. Somehow. “Does Wonwoo know everything that happened during his absence?” he asked.

“That was the exact reason why Chan went into your world. He wanted to warn Wonwoo before it was too late.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “So reckless, that boy, bringing Wonwoo back unprepared like this.”

Wanting to dispel the misunderstanding about Chan’s intention, Junhui explained, “Earlier today, Wonwoo and I saw three strange people. He was able to leave before they spotted him, but they left a message behind. When I brought him the message, the cousins were talking to each other. They didn’t have time to form a plan or anything, because a very violent earthquake broke the bottle that came with the message. I think it was meant to capture Wonwoo back to Warwick’s castle. Everything is a bit of a blur from that point, but Wonwoo grabbed me and followed Chan through some kind of portal. Then we fell into the valleys of Serenity Woods.”

“So _that’s_ how Wonwoo got you into this mess,” she chuckled. “You poor child. I was wondering how he cajoled you into coming back with him.”

Junhui wished it had been a pleasant invitation instead of the whirlwind of events that preceded his literal fall into the country. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad to be here. At least now he knew more about Wonwoo. The fact that he was royalty explained why he was so confident and shameless, always getting what he wanted. He was the prince. Who would ever dare to refuse him anything? Moreover, his grand gestures also made perfect sense now. If buying over a dozen cakes and gifting almost an entire greenhouse’s worth of flowers was how he cheered up a friend, Junhui couldn’t even begin to imagine what he would do for a significant other. Wonwoo so was used to ostentatiousness and flamboyancy, it made Junhui’s head spin.

Which furthermore led him to wonder why Wonwoo decided to stick with him. Junhui was just an ordinary person, with ordinary hobbies and lifestyle. Wonwoo said he was comforted by Junhui’s dreams, and from there, he crossed into his world. But that didn’t explain why he stayed. Once he succeeded, he could have gone anywhere, and possibly even meet someone who was a better fit for him.

That strange pang of discomfort caused his his heart to squeeze again. He didn’t like it, raising his hand to rub against his chest.

Well, he had already made up his mind about helping Wonwoo, so it wasn’t productive for him to wonder about useless things. Besides, they were friends. Friends helped each other.

Minjae finished with the outfit and asked him to change into another. When he returned, he asked, “Does Wonwoo have magic?” To ask such a question now was a little dumb, but he had to be sure. Maybe everyone in this fairytale land had magic. Warwick had powers, and Chan had used some kind of spell to get them here.

Laughing, Minjae nodded, not expecting that question out of the blue. “When he was a little boy, Wonwoo often used small, easy spells to get rid of his unwanted pieces seafood, or to clean his room,”—that made Junhui smile, imagining a little Wonwoo zapping away fish fillets from his plate and dirty laundry from his floor—“but before he disappeared, he used his powers to protect the kingdom and heal the stallions of the Royal army. His favorite task had always been taking care of the country’s flora, though.”

“That’s amazing,” Junhui breathed out in awe.

“Mm. Being the only one Gifted in the Court, he had a lot of responsibilities growing up. Occasionally, he would allow himself to go out into the valley and daydream. Chan says that’s when he would visit other people’s dreams, but I’m really not sure how that works.”

That zapped Junhui like a taser. Dreamwalk? Is that how Wonwoo got into his dreams? Wonwoo had said that he found it, but had he really been walking among thousands of other people’s dreams before he found Junhui’s? The thought of Wonwoo choosing his out of all others made his stomach flip flop. He rubbed his face, not wanting Minjae to see his smile.

“Here we go! Look at you, now! Suitors will soon be pounding on my door!” Minjae proclaimed, pulling him out of his reverie. “I have to say, this one suits you the best so far.” He let her lead him to the full length mirror in the corner.

With a shock, he looked at the boy in the reflection. His large eyes looked at him with surprise, his cheeks slightly flushed from the compliments. Minjae had done a marvelous job with the clothes. The lace fabric of the shirt hung loosely around his frame, but a white ribbon tied around his back kept the look from turning messy. The rose colored pants hugged his legs, and the hem stopped just above his ankles. Now _he_ looked like a fairy.

He laughed silently at that notion. He supposed that that childhood dream of waking up in a fairytale finally came true. Although this twisted and disturbing dream, full of evil and guile, was a far cry from the ones he had in mind as a child. But still a fairytale, nonetheless.

Junhui smiled, and the boy in the mirror stretched his pink lips over his teeth. “Thank you, Aunt Min.” He turned around and bowed his head.

“You’re welcome, dear.”

After Minjae finished fixing the rest of the clothes, evening had descended.

Junhui helped her get dinner ready, which came very easily to him. Potatoes and roasted chicken. She seemed to enjoy his company as much as he liked hers. She reminded him a lot of the aunties back home. All throughout the dinner preparation, she asked him about Wildflower Grove and the things that he did on a regular basis.

What he thought sounded boring and mundane impressed her, like catching the bus every morning to get to school. She found that fascinating, although coming from someone who’s never been on one, it was rather funny. Then he talked to her about _Healing Bites_ and the different foods they cooked there. That prompted a whole new conversation on recipes, which all sounded delicious to him.

The boys were called down to help with chopping wood and start the fire. Wonwoo had changed out of his jeans and t-shirt, donning on a pair of less conspicuous dark pants and a cotton tunic. While Junhui believed he had a valid reason to stare at Wonwoo’s new outfit, he didn’t understand why Wonwoo did the same to him. Did he look that strange wearing this world’s clothes?

It wasn’t until later, when he had his back turned to stoke the fire, that he realized why. Wonwoo snuck up on him, as he was so fond of doing, and poked a spot on his lower back. Startled and ticklish, he jumped.

“Hey, what was that for?” he whined.

His eyes flashed blue for a second, before settling on green. “Are you aware that you have a constellation of beauty marks on your back, and that it forms a crescent moon?”

“What?” Doe eyes widened in surprise. His hands scrambled to cover his back, as if it would erase the memory from Wonwoo’s mind. “How do you—” And then it occurred to him. The material, if stretched, turned almost sheer. Junhui had been bending over the fire, practically exposing himself.

His cheeks burned hotter than the fire.

“Oh, my god.”

“You really need to pay more attention to your surrounding, princess.” Smirking at him, Wonwoo gave his waist a pat and strolled outside to bring in more firewood as his aunt had asked.

Junhui wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it. He had to ask to borrow a jacket or something. He couldn’t keep blushing every time Wonwoo looked his way.

Thankfully, dinner went on without any disaster, and the delicious food distracted him well enough. Wonwoo and Chan did the cleanup, then they excused themselves to the backyard. Taking advantage of their absence, Junhui went to ask for a jacket. Although he didn’t want Minjae to think him crazy for putting on layers in the summer, so he devised a plan.

“How’s the weather here at night, Aunt Min?” he asked casually.

She was folding some linen and sorting out ones that needed mending. Without taking her eyes off of her chore, she answered, “A bit chilly at times, but not usually during this season. Why, are you feeling ill?” Her mother instinct kicked in, and Junhui felt a bit guilty, but he didn’t know how else to go about it.

“Oh, no! I was just wondering. I just tend to get cold easily.”

“Well, there’s a light jacket drying outside on the line. You can use it if you’d like,” she offered with a smile.

“Thank you! I’m going to go get it before I forget.” She laughed at his strange excitement. “Oh! Junhui, could you check if the clothes are dry and bring them in for me, please?” she called after him.

“Sure, no problem.” He took the basket by her feet and almost skipped outside.

The night in this country was just as lovely as the day, although in a different way. The moon was well above the tallest cherry blossom tree, casting its silver light down on the scenery, reminding him of Wonwoo’s necklace. His hand went up to his throat and pulled on the chain, feeling comforted by the weight of the stone between his fingers. All the while, his eyes took in the wonders of the night.

The moonlight illuminated the whole yard, yet without the sun, everything had a blue tint. It was like gazing at a painter’s monochrome work. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, and a few crickets sang. The wind blew lightly through the leaves, creating the swish and swash of the music. Sweet song of the night.

However, it was soon disturbed when he walked further and recognized the two voices talking in hushed tones. He approached slowly, holding the basket higher above his head to avoid knocking it against the side of the house.

“Chan, I know. And that is why I can’t let you come along. This whole mess is my fault,” Wonwoo said. “I have to take responsibility for it.”

“Are you insane?” the younger hissed. “There’s a difference between taking responsibility and going on a suicide mission. I can’t just watch you go and get killed! Besides, do you how far he lives? By the time you get there, Warwick’s guards would have tracked you down and hauled you back to their master. You need someone to come with you. You haven’t even found that stone yet!” Chan argued.

“Keep your voice down,” Wonwoo warned. “I don’t want Junhui to hear us.”

_What?!_

“Right,” Chan agreed. “What are you going to do with him?” What did he mean by that? Junhui wondered, brows furrowed. “Are you letting him come with you?” Chan sounded… sulky. The thought of Chan sulking because his cousin would allow Junhui to accompany him instead was rather cute. Junhui almost laughed, but shook his head to refocus.

Wonwoo sighed. “No, I can’t risk his life too. I’ve already dragged him into this mess, the least I can do is to keep him alive. Would your mother mind keeping him safe while I’m gone?” He sounded so torn, Junhui couldn’t bring himself to be angry with Wonwoo for wanting to abandon him. Not angry. Just more determined to change his mind.

“Why do you care when you’re just gonna go off and _die_?”

“Chan,” Wonwoo sounded amused.

“Alright, alright. I’m going to ask, but I’m pretty sure she won’t mind.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo let out a sigh, grateful that he still Chan and his mother to count on.

Junhui was as well, but he was not going to be left behind like some old sock.Maybe there was some truth to Minjae’s conviction that the situation now was merely a play set up by fate. Maybe fate really did have something to do with his presence here, for Wonwoo to have chosen Junhui’s dream out of all the others. Maybe because Junhui was meant to help. Maybe that was the reason he felt so attached and invested.

Determined to be heard, he stepped forward.

“You are not leaving me behind!” he asserted.

His sudden appearance successfully took them by surprise. Chan even gasped and jumped a few inches in the air. In another context, Junhui would have laughed until his stomach hurt.

“Junhui, what are you doing here?” Wonwoo tried to stall, but he wouldn’t be so easily deterred this time around.

Hitching the basket higher, he replied, “I was getting the laundry for your aunt, when I heard my name. But that doesn’t matter.” He dismissed it with a wave of his arm. “You can’t leave me behind like some old sock!”

Chan took a step back, not expecting him to raise his voice against Prince Wonwoo. Well, Junhui didn’t care even if he was the King of the world. He was still Wonwoo, a guy in danger with the lives of his parents and his country on his shoulders, in addition to whatever else that darn prophecy had to say. Which was exactly what Junhui told him.

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes, the color changing to gold so fast, it was breathtaking. Then he looked away, fuming. Thinking.

Chan darted his wide eyes from one person to the next. His apprehension painted over his entire expression. Deeming the argument more than he could handle, he came up to Junhui and pointed to the basket. Once he acquired the item, he speed-walked back toward the clothing lines.

After a long and tense minute, Wonwoo seemed to have calm down enough to enunciate, “Look, Junhui. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I know you want to help. But I already brought you into this mess. For that, I’ll apologize for as long as you want. What I can’t do is risk your life.”

“What if I was meant to help you? You believe what some old prophecy says, so why can’t you believe this, too?” Junhui was so desperate for him to listen. “If my dreams offered you comfort, why can’t I help? Out of all the dreams in this world, why did you choose mine? There has to be a reason behind it, right?”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“I would if you would just tell me,” Junhui pleaded. “Please let me help.”

The moment he took a step closer, Wonwoo turned his back to him and ran a hand through his hair. It looked silver in this light, shiny and soft. But Junhui refused to let his mind wander off.

Wonwoo gazed up at the moon, scoffing. “And how would you do that? You can’t change what it says, Junhui.”

“No, that I can’t. But I could try to help you get out of it. Why do you have to keep everything a secret? Has it done you any good?” he asked him. “You can’t shoulder everything on your own.”

Wonwoo didn’t answer. He kept his back to him.

Junhui continued anyway. “Just look at what happened before we left. If you hadn’t warned me about those strangers, I wouldn’t have known to cover for you.”

“Not like it did any good,” he mumbled angrily. “His potion almost caught us mere minutes later.”

“Almost! But we still survived!” Junhui pointed out, always one to look for the silver lining in every cloud. “If you hadn’t told me—if you hadn’t shared a bit that huge secret of yours—we would all be dead by now, probably.”

Wonwoo sighed. After what felt like an eternity, he finally turned around. “Alright, let’s say you _could_ help me get this mess sorted out and return people home safely. There’s still the issue of you having to come with me.” He eyed him, apparently expecting him to understand. Junhui didn’t.

“Yes, that is the point I am trying to make here. You have to let me come with you. You can’t just go alone.”

“No.”

At his wit’s end, Junhui wanted to scream. He stomped his feet in place to get rid of the frustration. Why was Wonwoo so stubborn? “What is so great about being alone?” he demanded.

A little taken aback by his tantrum, Wonwoo almost laughed. Shaking his head, he explained, “When I am alone, I don’t get distracted. You...” He looked at Junhui with that gaze again, the one that made him want to get a jacket in the first place.

Despite the cool breeze, Junhui felt feverish. He hugged his arms to his torso for something to do.

Wonwoo rubbed his forehead, sighing. “You’re too much of a distraction that I can’t afford,” he finally said. “You were already unwilling dragged into this mess. If something were to happen to you…”

“I don’t blame you, Wonwoo. I—”

“But I do!” he cut him off, startling him with the intensity of his tone. His hands clenched tightly at his side, he stalked toward him.

Junhui gasped, reflexively backing away. He wasn’t scared of Wonwoo hurting him, but he didn’t want to fight him, either. His back bumped against the side of the house.

“If something were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself, do you understand that?” he gritted out. He slammed his fist against the wall, his breath ragged and uneven.

“Wonwoo!” he cried out, afraid the other might have broken his hand. “Are you okay? Let me see—” He jumped up to check, but Wonwoo pulled out of his reach.

“You don’t understand,” he spit out. “My parents, my people, my whole country. They’re all either dead or under arrest. I can’t risk…” There was so much anger and guilt weighing down his words, no wonder his stormy eyes wouldn’t clear out.

“Wonwoo,” he called softly, cautiously approaching him. “Even if something were to happen to me, it wouldn’t be your fault.”

Trouble gray eyes settled on him.

“This is my decision.” Junhui steeled his nerves and resolve. “You might be Prince Jeon Wonwoo of Serenity Woods, but you aren’t invincible. I will do anything you ask of me, except for this.” He walked around until they stood face to face. “I am coming with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so i tried really hard not to spoil what wonu is, so did it work? was anyone surprised by the reveal??? 
> 
> poor poor poor wonu... still got that tragic backstory to lug around, i see 😔 at least no one died, right? (that we know of). but wonu's sudden burst of anger, though... 👀
> 
> anyway, hurray for finally some answers! whew (-。－；) we'll get the rest of the pieces in the next chapters or so. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! thank you very much for reading! take care, you guys~  
> xoxoxo
> 
> P.S.: i will try to post every Wed/Sat! unless you guys would rather keep it once a week, that works too! just let know and i'll see what the majority says :D


	5. A Bit of History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo tells Jun the whole truth about the prophecy, and WonHui get on the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a lot of exposition and _cheese_ 😆 but also ACTION!
> 
> -

“Junhui, Wonwoo? Is everything all right out there?” Minjae asked over the creaking of the old door hinges.

Still peeved, Wonwoo broke their staring match to glimpse toward the cottage. Arectangle of yellow light cast over the sleeping garden, and the figure of a nervous woman bobbed in the glow. He cut his gaze back to Junhui, his seething eyes still golden with frustration.

“It’s getting late, Wonwoo,” Minjae went on when she received no reply. “If you must continue your… conversation, please do it inside.”

“It’s all right, Aunt Minjae,” Wonwoo answered. He pinned Junhui with a hard stare. “We were just discussing Junhui’s living arrangements for the next few days. We’re finished.”

Junhui sucked in a breath. _Unbelievable!_ Did nothing get through to Wonwoo? Was his stubbornness that thick? Well, he wasn’t going to give up this easily. While he followed him back inside the house, Junhui rummaged his brain for other means to convince him.

At the threshold, Minjae offered him a sympathetic smile. He wondered if their fight got loud enough that she had to overhear. Guiltily, he lowered his head.

“We have an extra room upstairs,” she told him. “You can use it if you’d like.”

Grateful, he nodded. “Thank you, Aunt Min.”

She cast another look at her nephew’s gloomy expression, then said, “Try not to break anything, please. And get to bed.” She waited until he gave her a curt nod, before she climbed upstairs.

Walking away, Wonwoo went to sit in the chair by the fireplace. He folded his hands under his chin and stared at the flames. “Get some rest, Junhui. It was a hard day for you.” Rubbing his face slowly, he added, “Stay here with Chan and my aunt until I can find a way to send you home safely.” The anger and frustration from earlier had evaporated from his tone, leaving behind only weariness and resignation.

Junhui didn’t want to add to his burden by being contrary and obstinate, but Wonwoo didn’t leave him much of a choice. In order to help him, he’ll have to grit his teeth and march on, even if it was difficult.

He leaned back against the kitchen table, his hands resting on the smooth wood. As he continued to ponder his next step, he kept a close watch on his companion. Most of Wonwoo’s face was hidden from view, but just a glance of his tense back was enough to showcase the turmoil in his head.

That strange ache made his chest throb again, and Junhui pressed his fingers against it to make it go away.

All around them, the house was very quiet.

He expected Wonwoo to turn around and snap at him to go to bed at any moment, but across the room, the latter didn’t even move a muscle. He sat quietly by the fire, watching the flames lick and burn the logs. Junhui had no idea if he planned on staying up all night, or if he simply waited for the right time to sneak out and go on what Chan dubbed as a suicide mission. Whatever the case, Junhui needed to act quickly. Regardless of his best wishes, if Wonwoo really did decide to leave on his own, there was very little Junhui could do to stop him. Not only did he not think he could win in a physical fight with him, Wonwoo also had magic.

Resolutely taking in a deep breath, Junhui spoke up, “Okay. I won’t ask to come along.”

His head popped up at once, purple eyes gazing at him with a mix of hope and relief. Almost immediately, though, they narrowed with suspicion. “Why the change of heart?”

“I’m not a fan of inserting myself somewhere I’m not welcome—”

“Junhui,” Wonwoo interrupted, brows furrowed in displeasure, but Junhui pretended not to see it and continued in the same breath.

“And since you don’t need me, I might as well find a way to get home myself. I’m sure someone around here knows.”

Wonwoo snorted, shaking his head as if it were a foolish notion. “Warwick caught every person capable of magic,” he said, with a hint of satisfaction at successfully foiling Junhui’s plans. “So please, just stay here and behave.” Seeing the rebellious glint in his eyes, he warned, “Don’t make me tie you up.”

“You tyrant,” Junhui muttered, screwing his face into a grimace.

“Better me than Warwick.”

“He could send me back, though, couldn’t he?” Junhui wondered casually. “I mean, he managed to cross worlds.” Tapping his chin, he looked to the ceiling, feigning joy and relief. “I’ll pretend to be lost and confused. The last thing I remember is him coming to the restaurant and leaving a message. As I was minding my business, an earthquake occurred, knocking me out. When I woke up, I was alone in a foreign land. That should work—”

The plan had been to persuade Wonwoo to let him come on the journey by pretending to seek his enemy for help. Junhui expected him to get angry. But nothing like this.

Without a word, Wonwoo got up, movements slow by deliberate. The flames in the hearth flared and blazed. His eyes bottomless black whirlpools, he stalked toward him. An ominous rattling sound gradually flooded the room. Gasping, Junhui watched in fright as the objects inside the cottage flew off the shelves and began to swirl around Wonwoo. They spun faster and faster, the tornado sucking in vases and plates, books and knick-knacks.

Junhui tried to run, but with the table at his back and the storm at his front, he was stuck in place.

“Wonwoo, stop! I’m sorry!” He tried to calm him down. “Please, I didn’t mean to! I won’t let Warwick—”

Wonwoo roared at the name, his arms shaking at his sides. Junhui startled at the ferocity of his wrath, hands flying up to cover his head. The person who had just bellowed couldn’t be Wonwoo. The resonance shook his bones and froze his blood. He curled in on himself, peeking through the gap of his elbows. Wonwoo’s breathing grew more ragged, his chest heaving up and down. He clenched his teeth. His entire frame shook from the restraint he put on his muscles to retain the anger, but his powers still flared out of his control. A book flew out of orbit and crashed onto the wall. A vase followed, flung out of the whirlwind and shattered on the steps of the stairs. His attempt to rein back his powers had the opposite effect.

Junhui’s ears rung from the howling winds, and his eyes watered from the irritation. He opened his mouth to call out to him, but his voice was quickly swallowed by the storm.

Suddenly, a wooden frame escaped its formation and flew right at him. With a shriek, Junhui covered his head and dropped to the floor.

He waited for the blow, for the pain and unconsciousness to take hold of him. But he felt nothing. For a second, he thought that he’d already been hit over the head, resulting in his current state of numbness and disorientation. He stayed still, too afraid of opening his eyes or moving around recklessly.

Slowly, Junhui regained sensation of his surroundings. The blast of wind had stopped. The house was quiet again. Outside, the crickets sang in the distance; the night peaceful again. He laid on a cold and hard surface. There was no movement, no noise.

Apart from a very rough and ragged breathing. It took a moment longer, but Junhui realized that it was his own. His arms and legs still shook slightly, too, but he couldn’t feel any injury. Believing that maybe the worst was over, he eventually slid open his eyes.

The house looked spotless. He could hardly believe his eyes. Shakily sitting up, he took a second to inspect the room. No trace whatsoever of the storm Wonwoo had conjured up. Worry shot an icy jolt down his spine. Where was Wonwoo? Taking hold of the table as support, he pulled himself to his feet.

“Wonwoo?” he called tentatively.

He was afraid of unleashing Wonwoo’s wrath again, mostly, but he also didn’t want to cause a ruckus. His eyes flickered toward the stairs briefly. How did neither Chan nor his mother get disturbed by what happened mere moments earlier? The question soon flitted out of his mind as he focused on finding Wonwoo. Rounding the bookcase, Junhui gasped and threw himself on the floor.

“Oh, my god. Wonwoo, can you hear me?” Junhui shook him gently, then a bit harder, but still nothing. The anxiety mounted and clogged up his throat. His only reassurance was Wonwoo’s steady heartbeats under his palm.

Carefully, he checked him for injuries. His unnaturally pallid skin felt cool to the touch. He pushed the blond hair out of his face and noticed a small cut by his temple, probably from one of the items that flew out of his control. Aside from the laceration, Wonwoo appeared fine. He must have lost consciousness due to the strain of his powers. Junhui felt guilty for pushing him so far.

“Wonwoo,” he called softly.

When the boy still didn’t wake up, he sighed. There was a cot set up in the corner of the room. For now, Junhui would take him there. It had to be more comfortable than the floor.

After a few minutes, Wonwoo’s pulse beat stronger, and some colors returned to his skin. Junhui let out a sigh of relief. Kneeling on the floor by his side, Junhui gingerly washed away the blood from the cut with a clean towel and warm water from the kettle. With his face turned to the side, a bruise was slightly visible under the surface of his skin.

Just watching him sleep, it was hard to imagine that such a handsome face was capable of forming such a livid expression. At the thought of his frozen fury, Junhui shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Wake up soon, okay?”

Now that he had the chance to gaze at him closely, he wondered how he couldn’t have guessed that Wonwoo was a prince in some far away world. It wasn’t just the physical attributes, but a certain aura that emanated from him—the charm and charisma, the confidence.

As the cut started to let a red drop escape, Junhui pressed a clean gauze to it, hoping the pressure would stop the bleeding. This time, Wonwoo groaned and flinched away.

“Oh! I’m sorr—” Junhui removed the cloth just as Wonwoo’s eyes flew open.

He grabbed Junhui by the wrist and sat up. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, I lost control and—”

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay!” Junhui held the hand still wound around his wrist. He offered a gentle smile. “I’m fine. Please lie down. You’re still bleeding a little.” With a little nudge, Wonwoo reluctantly settled back, but his silvery purple eyes didn’t leave his nurse’s face for a long minute.

Not knowing what to say, the latter busied himself with cleaning up the wound with a new piece of gauze.

“I’m sorry, Junhui.” He sighed, eventually glimpsing away. Under his breath, he mumbled, “There really is no way to escape it.”

Folding his hands in his lap, Junhui gazed at him with confused round eyes. “Wonwoo,” he called softly, waiting for him to turn his way. “What’s going on?”

Wonwoo didn’t move right away, still debating whether to tell Junhui or not. This time, Junhui waited patiently as he composed his thoughts. Finally, he shifted back to face him, his expression weary, but somewhat more determined than earlier.

“I promise nothing like that will ever happen again,” Wonwoo said, looking into his eyes. “I owe you an apology and an explanation.” He sighed. “Based on the prophecy, I am supposed to find the stone of Lenu Rowfel before the 1700th anniversary of Serenity Woods, which is in three months. The stone would serve as a security measure, keeping my powers in check and stopping them from getting influenced by my emotions and vice versa… like what happened earlier.” He gestured toward the other side of the house, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “In addition, it would also act like a magical reserve for me to use in case of emergency. Does it make sense?”

Junhui nodded, slowly piecing together the big picture.

“At first glance, it sounded wonderful. Not only would I have a safety switch, it would also give me enough power to protect the country and keep it prosperous,” Wonwoo smiled wistfully for a second, before it faded. “But when are things ever that simple, right?” He laughed wryly. “There was a condition. Until the fated day, I must have found a way to control the magic in me first, the good and the bad.”

Junhui’s expression must have looked puzzled at that moment, because he chuckled lightly and tried to delineate the facts. “Within us, there is potential for both good and evil, right?” Junhui nodded. “Well, when someone inherits magical abilities, things get complicated. Magic is a very powerful force that drives your thoughts and behavior often. In other words, if that person is mostly evil, then his powers will intensify to create havoc and chaos. If that person is good, then his magic will benefit others. To be a capable and responsible magic wielder, you have to be able to maintain a balance between the two. No one is ever all white or all black. You have to be able to distinguish between mercy and foolishness, for example.

“If you apprehend an unrepentant murderer, who swears they’ll kill again, you can’t exercise mercy, because it’ll put others at risk. You’ll need to push away your altruism and dip into your ‘dark’ powers to make them disappear forever. On the other hand, if you’re at war, and the enemy surrenders, or you come into contact with innocent people from the other side, you have to be able to stop your killing intent to show them compassion.

“On paper, it’s easy to understand: be kind, but don’t be stupid. Get rid of the enemy, but don’t hurt people indiscriminately. What no one tells you, though, is how difficult it is to walk that line between the white and the black, when you hold magic at your fingertips. Magic is power. A very alluring and tempting force that easily tramples on your judgement.”

He sighed yet again, shaking his head. “I digress. What it all means is that unless I manage to control myself and my magic _on my own_ before the fated day, the stone won’t work on me at all. Then I’ll be doomed to turn rogue, my powers uncontrollable. And that’s what the prophecy predicted.” He smiled, full of anguish. “I’ll find the stone, but it won’t matter, because I can’t control my power fluctuations. Knowing that I’m a ticking time bomb, how could I stand to stay here and risk putting my country in danger?”

“So that’s why you ran to another world?” Junhui asked.

“Mm. I figured that my powers would either not work or be dampened if I crossed into another world. I had nothing to go on, but I had to try. Originally, I planned to return home once I found a solution—a way to cap off my powers without the stone.” After a brief pause, he added, “But during that period, I heard news of Warwick’s takeover and his discovery of the prophecy.”

“Wait, hold on,” Junhui interrupted, brows knitted together. “If he knows that your powers are so unstable, then why does he want to capture you? Shouldn’t he be glad that you left? Without you around, he was able to attack and put Serenity Woods under his thumb. Isn’t he afraid that you might explode and wipe him out if you return? Is it just because he wants to eliminate the heir to the throne?”

Wonwoo chuckled, his somber expression lightening a little. Junhui was happy to see the minute change.

“You’re right. But that’s not why he wants to capture me.”

“Huh?”

“As part of the 1700th Anniversary, there would be a special ceremony for me to accept the stone. Whoever bestowed the stone upon me would hold control of my powers. Ideally, it would have been either my teacher or my father—people who have my best interest at heart.”

Finally understanding, Junhui gasped. “So if Warwick caught you and forced that stone around your neck, your powers would belong to him,” he summarized. All the puzzle pieces were finally coming together.

“Mm. Yes. I ran away because I wanted to restrict my powers and protect Serenity Woods, but now it looks like I won’t be able to keep them at all, and Serenity Woods has been captured by a traitor,” he laughed bitterly. “So much work, only to return right where I started. Now unless I find Professor Larkin, there is no way I could save my parents and my country.”

“Who’s Professor Larkin?”

“The only person outside of my parents whom I trust with my magic. He was my teacher, and the person who retrieved the prophecy.”

“Where is he now?” Junhui wondered.

“I’m not sure. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t caught by Warwick along with all other magical folks. But when I was young, he used to tell me that if at any point, I needed him and he wasn’t around, I would find my answer at his old cottage. At the time, I figured he was just planning ahead for the days after he passed away, but maybe it was for a closer future.”

“Is that what you were arguing with Chan earlier?”

“Yeah. I hadn’t been to his home in years, and the journey will be arduous, but hopefully we’ll reach it before the next full moon.”

It was all valuable information, but Junhui picked out the most important fact. His lips were already pulled into a grin. “We? You’re letting me come?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, purple tinged with specs of emerald. He chuckled. “If you’re with me, then I can keep my eye on you and stop you from doing anything reckless.”

Giggling, Junhui nodded. “Deal!”

The next morning, Junhui expected Minjae to scold them for causing a such a commotion last night. Or at the least, he thought the two would ask about it. However, when Minjae walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, she didn’t say anything. She only expressed misgivings over Wonwoo’s decision of bringing Junhui along.

For a moment, he feared that her worries might give Wonwoo second thought, but fortunately, Wonwoo kept his word. Junhui really had no idea what he’d do otherwise.

Once they finished breakfast, Minjae prepared them food and clothes for the road. They stuffed everything in backpacks and heaved them over their shoulders. She gave them motherly advice, patting their heads and wishing them safe travels. As they left, she stood by the door and watched until she could no longer spot them in the distance. Chan was still sleeping by then, so he never got the chance to voice his protests. Junhui felt for him. He wanted to protect and help his cousin, too.

Gradually, the little house turned smaller and smaller, until it completely disappeared behind them. He and Wonwoo walked among the blooming trees and grass knolls, heading for the woods. After several minutes, at the point where Junhui thought they would be making this journey in complete silence, Wonwoo started to speak.

“What would you have done this summer, if I hadn’t dragged you here?”

Glancing at him, Junhui could tell he still felt guilty about involving him in his problems. Well, Junhui wished he could ease the guilt by staying with Minjae like Wonwoo asked, but this strange tug inside his chest compelled him to follow and help Wonwoo no matter what. But that might be unwise to reveal, so instead Junhui racked his brain for an honest answer to give him.

“Umm... Nothing much, actually.” He tried to remember his mundane activities only twenty-four hours ago. “Just work and sleep, I guess,” he answered with a shrug. “My life is pretty ordinary without the presence of a certain blond and his teasing.”

Wonwoo laughed. “Should I take it to mean you enjoy it?” he smirked.

Well, Junhui walked straight into that one, didn’t he?

Ignoring the heat on his cheeks, he looked away and pretended to stare at the butterflies circling a bush of flowers. “I never said that.”

“But you’re not denying it, either.”

Junhui turned and made a face at him. “You enjoy riling me up too much,” he muttered. “Are you some sort of soft sadist?”

Wonwoo burst out laughing. “‘Soft’?”

A little flustered, Junhui wrung his hands. “Y-you know! Like, you don’t enjoy causing people pain, but you like to see them getting all flustered and embarrassed.”

Even as he complained, Junhui was glad to see that Wonwoo had somewhat gotten back to his usual self. He didn’t like to see him so morose. A charming smile fit him much better, and if the cost for it was Junhui’s embarrassment, then so be it.

“Well, to be honest, I only do that with you,” Wonwoo admitted nonchalantly, not sparing a single trace of mercy for Junhui’s heart.

He almost tripped over a rock.

“What an honor to be the Crown Prince’s entertainment.”

The sarcasm seemed to amuse him enough. His lips pulled into that gorgeous smile as he laughed and kept walking forward, his gaze on the road ahead. Junhui walked along him for a minute before he elaborated.

“It wasn’t on purpose at first. But you get flustered so easily, over the most random thing or comment, I couldn’t help continuing. Before I knew it, watching your different reactions became riveting.” He shrugged. “Moreover, it took my mind off of things very easily. Whenever my resolve wavered, you were there, zipping back and forth in the restaurant, blushing and floundering from anything I said,” he chuckled, bumping into Junhui’s side.

The latter pretended to be angry, pouting. Just when he thought over a retort, a sudden thought hit him. It was so startling, he had to wonder if his brain had suffered some kind of damages when they fell yesterday afternoon. _How could I not think to ask him?!_

“Wonwoo, after we left, what happened to _Healing Bite_ s?” his voice hitched up an octave. When they had stepped into the portal, Wonwoo had said that his family wasn’t the target, thus they would be left alone. But what about the earthquake? Were they okay? How serious were the damages?

Sensing Junhui’s distress, Wonwoo’s eyes softened. His voice was like a soothing song. “Relax. With my earlier spells still in place, nothing happened. Or rather, nothing of that crash is left. Do you remember when you fell in the storage room?” he asked.

Junhui nodded, looking up at him, distracted by the way his golden hair shone under the sunshine.

“Well, after I got your injuries taken care of,” he continued, unsuspecting of Junhui’s ogling, “The spell cleaned up the mess and fixed up the damaged goods, then it put everything back to its original spot. Something similar took place after we left,” he explained. “Everything’s fine.”

Grateful, Junhui let out a relieved breath and thanked him sincerely. So his grandmother, Hayun, and Bora were okay. _Healing Bites_ was still standing. But then, had they been looking for him? He dared not imagine the frantic state his grandmother would be in.

The view in front of his eyes—the green and soft grass, the blossoming trees, and the clear sky—disappeared. In its place was the chaotic scene of his grandmother frantically searching for him, of the aunties trying to keep her from exerting herself and calling the police to report his disappearance. His and Wonwoo.

Oh, geez.

With the flowers and the cakes, there was no way they wouldn’t misunderstand the situation. Hayun would come to the conclusion that Junhui ran off with him for sure. Which was technically true, but— _Oh, geez._

Wonwoo, somehow knowing where his mind had gone, reassured him again with that same even and musical voice. “Don’t worry about them too much. All of my spells are still active, which means that they still can’t figure out anything wrong when it comes to you and me.”

Now that the knowledge appeased his worries, curiosity took precedence. “Why would you set up that kind of spell in the first place? I highly doubt they could ever guess your real identity.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Because it wouldn’t be as easy to mess with you otherwise,” he teased.

“Hmph!” Without thinking, he swatted his arm.

“Hey! Offending a Royal figure is punishable by law,” he warned, but his voice wasn’t anything but playful, his eyes as green as the canopy of leaves above their heads.

Junhui laughed. “If I’m the Cat Princess, then I’m also a Royal figure, and should thus be excused.” Curling his fingers closed, he placed them under his chin and cocked his head to the side. “Right? Meow.”

Surprise broke Wonwoo’s usual cool and confident expression. He blinked, then quickly flickered his eyes to the side. He scratched at his ear. Had they been walking under the sun long enough for the tips to have turned a little pink? Junhui wasn’t sure, but he was a little too focused on trying to decipher what emotion he saw on Wonwoo’s face right as he turned away. He didn’t think he’d seen it before, but whatever it was, it caused his eyes to very briefly change. It was like a drop of blue ink swirling in a glass of purple liquid.

Before he could figure it out, Wonwoo cleared his throat and faced him again, expression smooth as if nothing had happened. He cracked a grin, glancing at Junhui.

“Nice try, but only those associated with the Royal line can be excused, either by blood or marriage.”

Junhui knew he was teasing, but it didn’t stop his blush from ambushing him. With an embarrassed scream, he pushed Wonwoo halfheartedly away.

“Hey!”

Not one to lose, Wonwoo yanked on his wrist. Junhui collided against him with an _oof!_ The two waddled across the forrest floor, laughing like children.

Once they calmed down enough to hold a proper conversation, another question occurred to Junhui.

“What were those earthquakes, anyway? They couldn’t have been natural, right?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “That usually happens when a lot of magic is displaced at once,” he explained. “Like when you travel from one world to the next and you don’t care about discretion.”

“Then both times were caused by Warwick and his companions?”

“Yeah.”

“Then how come there were none when you came? Because you didn’t want to cause any ripples that could lead people to you?”

He nodded. “Exactly. It takes longer, but it’s better than the alternative.”

As they continued on deeper into the woods Junhui started to ask him more questions. Now seemed like a good time to get his answers, since Wonwoo felt charitable with his responses.

“So you said that you put the whole restaurant under a spell so that no one would notice your little tricks, right?”

Wonwoo nodded.

“Was I ever under a spell?” To be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to this particular question, but it had been bugging him for a while now, and he itched to know more.

Not hearing him respond, Junhui looked up just in time to see a grimace leave Wonwoo’s face. A bad feeling simmered in his tummy. “You did not…” he said slowly. “Wonwoo!” Did he make Junhui do something really embarrassing and then wiped his memory?

“It’s not as bad as you think!” Wonwoo replied, trying to placate him.

“So it’s still some kind of bad? What did you do?” His voice came out louder than he had meant, and he quickly pressed his hands over his mouth. He had a bad habit of getting loud when excited or agitated. “Sorry, I…”

Wonwoo stiffened, throwing a furtive glance around them. Whatever he saw or heard, it caused his face to darken. Hurriedly, he grabbed Junhui’s wrist and tugged him forward, heading for a different trail.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud,” Junhui whispered, guilt and apprehension battling inside his body.

They quickened their steps, half running through the thick vegetation.

“No, it wasn’t that. I thought I heard footsteps following us for a while now, but they got closer when you raised your voice,” he said under his breath.

Even though he made light of the situation, all traces of their earlier pleasantries had vanished from his face. Junhui wanted to slap himself.

Swiftly, Wonwoo made a sharp turn, almost sending Junhui on the ground as he tripped over his feet. The roots and bushes didn’t help his coordination, either. “Come on, there’s a river nearby,” he hissed. Junhui numbly ran next to him.

A few yards later, he heard the gentle flow of water. Not long after, he saw it between the trees. It was rather intimidating. He hadn’t gone camping in years, but he’d seen enough documentaries. Rivers this large could be as deep as several dozens of feet. Thankfully, though, the current at this particular spot seemed manageable. Was Wonwoo planning on swimming across? Or were they going to jump in and hide from the villain like they would with bees? Neither seemed like very good ideas, and the panic began to settle into the pit of his stomach.

Hand still firmly grasping Junhui’s wrist, Wonwoo looked over his shoulder, trying to discern one shadow from another, listening for footsteps. Junhui could only stand quietly by his side, slowing down his breathing to not cause more noise. He couldn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, but then again, he had no prior training. And unlike Wonwoo, he never had to spend his time watching out for dangerous people and listening for their whereabouts. Not until today. Not until now.

Wonwoo turned to him, his eyes silver again. “How long can you hold your breath?” he asked out of nowhere. It took Junhui a second to decipher his words. Were they really going to hide in the water?

“Uh, I—I—I don’t know. Less than a minute?” It came out sounding like a question.

Wonwoo swore under his breath, glimpsing at the trees. Facing him again, he spoke in a haste. “Trust me, okay?”

Junhui blinked, still too out of it. A second ticked by, and Junhui nodded. He thought that he’d already been implicitly clear about trusting Wonwoo with his life by insisting on going on this quest with him.

The lines on Wonwoo’s face relaxed a fraction as he gave him a curt nod, his lips a thin line. “Take a breah,” he ordered. Faster than Junhui could think, Wonwoo grabbed his hand and ran into the cold water.

The river was deeper than Junhui had estimated. A lot deeper. Almost as deep as the lake his grandmother used to take him to when he was little. They were floating freely underwater with more than a yard until they would reach the bottom. Even though his vision was blurry, Junhui could still see Wonwoo clearly enough. The latter had his face raised toward the surface.

Around them, the roots of the various bushes of cattails hid them from immediate view from the surface, but Wonwoo should still be able to tell by the moving shadows whether their stalker still lingered and when it was safe to emerge. At least that was what Junhui inferred. He didn’t want to think about the villain sitting out of view, waiting for his prey to fall for the false sense of safety. Or worse, wait for them to come up for air and then swoop down to capture them.

Strangely, though, Wonwoo didn’t look like he was having difficulty breathing at all. His face was smooth and perfect, as if he stood on land. Only his expression was wary, brows furrowed.

Junhui felt his hand around his own fingers, Wonwoo’s hold tight, not willing to let Junhui slip away. But Junhui soon felt lightheaded, his oxygen intake quickly wearing out. He curled in on himself, fighting the instinct to kick his feet and swim to the surface and breathe. His lungs started to burn, and he gritted his teeth.

A shiny reflection seized his attention momentarily. A silver band on Wonwoo’s ring finger caught the sunlight. But even that small distraction couldn’t give him the necessary oxygen. Despite his best efforts, he thrashed and let go of his breath. Water rushed into his lungs, and his vision began to dim. He was drowning.

Abruptly, someone—Wonwoo?—yanked on his hand. The person wound his arm around Junhui’s waist to bring the boy closer to him.

The last thing Junhui felt before his consciousness faded away completely was a set of lips on his own.

“Wonwoo! I saw him move,” a very familiar, boyish voice said somewhere nearby.

“I know, grab me that blanket,” Wonwoo’s voice replied. He was very close to Junhui.

As he slowly came to, the sudden urge to cough and throw up took over him. Junhui lunged forward and coughed out a whole ocean of water. His nose stung as if a million needles pricked it, and his chest burned with every breath he took. He should be grateful that he didn’t nearly drown in the sea, otherwise he’d have the salt to thank for another layer of pain.

He coughed some more, throat raw. A little dizzy, he slowly felt his way and laid back down. “Ugh…” he groaned, throwing an arm over his forehead.

“This should keep you warm for a while, but you’re going to eventually have to get out of those soaked clothes.” Junhui recognized Wonwoo’s voice, and he opened his eyes to find him. The blond covered him with a dry blanket.

“Thank you,” Junhui croaked out, then grimaced at the discomfort.

Gradually, he got hold of his bearing and took a look around them. He saw tall and big tree tops. The sky above them was tinted slightly darker, signaling sunset in a couple hours. So they were still in the woods. And alive.

Everything came back in a rush. The accidentally shouting. The running. The river. The jumping. The kissing? No, Junhui thought, that must have been his dreams running wild again. He pulled the blanket up over his face until only his eyes remained. Putting that embarrassing hallucination out of his mind, he turned to Wonwoo.

“What happened? Did we escape him? Is he gone?” The blanket muffled his voice a little, but Wonwoo seemed to understand him just fine.

He smiled, chuckling quietly as he looked over his shoulder briefly. “Actually…” He took a step to the side and gestured. Junhui gingerly pushed himself to a sitting position and followed Wonwoo’s gaze past the campfire.

Sitting on a log, looking back at Junhui with eyes full of worry and guilt, the boy offered a small wave.

Junhui blinked.

“H-hey, Junhui,” Chan laughed nervously. “Sorry I almost drowned you.”

A while later, once Junhui’s teeth stopped clacking enough to rival a nutcracker’s, he deemed it okay for him to attempt changing out of his wet clothes. If only Wonwoo cooperated with him a little.

“Why don’t you just go into the woods for five minutes while I get changed? Please?” Junhui jumped up and down to keep himself warm, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It wasn’t actually all that cold, not when it was summer and there was a raging fire right behind him. Nevertheless, wearing wet clothes in the woods still gave him the chills.

“But I’m cold,” Wonwoo said, putting his hands out toward the flames. “And this is where the fire is. Besides, Chan already went to get more firewood.”

“Wonwoo!”

“What? Just change here. What’s the matter?”

By the way his grin stretched into a smirk, he knew exactly what was wrong. After their little swim, all the fabric clung to Junhui’s skin, revealing far more than he was willing to. That was partly why he still clung to this blanket.

Whining, Junhui kicked a pebble. “Can you use your powers to dry them? Like you did for our bags.”

“Sorry, but unless you want your whole body to dry up, I wouldn’t use the same spell.”

“What?”

“The spell doesn’t know how to distinguish you from your clothes. Your whole body is going to dry up like a mummy,” he informed him.

Gripping the ends of the blanket in one hand, he pointed at the other accusingly. “Then how come you’re dry?”

Wonwoo shrugged again. “Got dressed while you were still unconscious.”

Frustrated, Junhui whined again, wiggling inside his blanket fort. His childish tantrum just seemed to turn Wonwoo’s eyes greener. “Why are you so mean?” he mumbled. “Fine, then you stay here next to your fire, and _I’ll_ go into the woods.” Huffing, he gripped the blanket tighter and spun around.

Before he could get very far, Wonwoo stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, that’s enough,” he chuckled. “I was just messing with you. Come here, you won’t become a mummy once I get your clothes dried.”

Lowering his face, Junhui looked up at him with round eyes.

“Is that supposed to make me feel guilty?” he asked with a laugh.

“Is it working?”

Wonwoo laughed again. “Nope. Now stand still.”

“What a bully,” he muttered. “Out all the princes in existence, you’re my least favorite.” Sometimes, Junhui spoke without thinking of the consequences, especially when he was around people he knew and felt comfortable with. This was one of those times.

Hearing his comment, Wonwoo arched a brow. His eyes darkened for a second, before he grinned again. He took a step forward, close enough that their foreheads almost bumped together. “Is that so?” he whispered. “Then why did you kiss me back earlier?”

Junhui gasped. All the blood in his body seemed to rush to his cheeks. _No way…_ He let go of the blanket to press his hands over his face. He wanted to disappear.

Taking advantage of Junhui’s stunned state, Wonwoo got to work. He waved his hand over the wet clothes, from top to bottom. Instantly, it felt lighter, and the chills disappeared. Gently, he held the boy’s forearm and leaned close to his ear. “You’re welcome, princess.”

The moment Wonwoo let go, Junhui squeaked and ran for the nearest tree, hugging it with all his might. A few feet away, Wonwoo burst into laughter.

By the time Chan came back with more firewood, Junhui’s mood had calmed down. He pretended Wonwoo hadn’t mentioned the kiss, and instead focused on being grateful that he didn’t drown. Now he could turn his attention on their newest addition to the quest.

“How did you even find us, Chan?” Junhui asked as Wonwoo handed him a plate of food.

“I could have caught up with you a lot sooner if it wasn’t for Wonwoo’s sleep spell!” he exclaimed around a mouthful of food.

“Sleep spell?” Perplexed, Junhui looked at the one responsible, but Chan answered him.

“I bet he was afraid to wake me and my mom up when you two were fighting.” He chewed. So that explained how they slept through the whole night. Interesting. Junhui contemplated that knowledge as he chewed slowly.

“Does your mom know you’re with us?” Wonwoo asked him.

He shrugged. “More or less. I left her a note by my bed.”

Wonwoo shook his head sadly. “Looks like I’ve been playing the role of kidnapper rather well these past few days.” He smiled to himself.

They ate and chatted with each other. Mainly, Chan shared all the trouble he had to go through in order to pick up their trail, and the older two laughed at his retelling. Wonwoo gave him his share of meat as apology, and Chan accepted with delight. Junhui watched the exchange with a smile and a warm heart.

Later, when Chan was already sleeping peacefully, Junhui found Wonwoo sitting by the fire, levitating a few twigs in the fire by waving his fingers this way and that. Tiptoeing around the rocks, he came to sit closer to him. Wonwoo looked over, the branches still dancing playfully in the fire.

“Are you cold?” he asked, already looking for the blanket. But Junhui shook his head.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

He nodded, then went back to his game. Junhui watched his hand move over the sticks, awed at how they moved after his hand. It was so engrossing, yet so unreal, even now. They sat there for a long time, Wonwoo playing with his magic, while Junhui stared in wonder.

“When did you find out about your powers?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb Chan. He didn’t answer right away, but Junhui waited.

Without turning his gaze away from the flames, he said, “When I was nine. I was playing with Chan in the gardens because we weren’t allowed into the woods. We climbed up a big apple tree. I wanted to get a better view, so I reached for a higher branch. I wasn’t carefully enough.” He paused.

“And you fell?” Junhui guessed.

He shook his head and dropped his hand. The twigs tumbled back into the orange flames. “Chan followed me, and he tried to climb up the same branch. But he was too short, so when he reached for it, he slipped.”

“Oh, no.”

“By the time I got to him, he was crying so much... I didn’t know what to do. His wrist was hurting. I just wanted to see it, so I picked it up. Examining it, I remember feeling so guilty that I wished that he would be okay. Slowly, the swelling subsided, and he stopped crying. The adults got there just as I pulled my hand back and the swelling was gone. When the doctor came, he announced that Chan was fine, that there wasn’t even a trace of a fracture in the first place.”

“So then your parents learned that you healed him,” Junhui said, and he nodded.

“The other powers came on their own, but I had to learn most of everything else. Healing is the only real power I was born with,” he said.

“Well, now I know why Chan is so adamant about following you. You’re the one to take away his pain,” Junhui said as his eyes wandered to Chan’s sleeping form.

“Maybe in the past, but not anymore. Now I’m the one who brought it to him.” His voice turned cold and cynical.

The abrupt change gave Junhui whiplash. “What?”

“Chan lost his father because of me. My uncle served as the top general. When Warwick took over, he made sure that no one would be able to rebel, so he took care of all military personnel. Obviously, my uncle wasn’t going to betray our family and country, so like so many others,he was executed.”

Junhui sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. He knew of the atrocities, but now it made sense why Minjae had cried so much when he asked. She lost her husband to Warwick’s greedy schemes.

There was more Junhui wanted to ask about all the history and conflicts that went on, but a glimpse at Wonwoo’s forlorn face, and Junhui just wanted to walk over and comfort him. Wonwoo truly believed that all the deaths and misery were his fault.

That because he left Serenity Woods, he had caused all this. That should have been what Junhui believed, too, objectively speaking. Yet something told him that there was a whole other side to this ordeal. Something that maybe not even Wonwoo knew. Something Junhui hoped they will learn as they get closer to their goal. In the meantime, though, he had to find a way to pull Wonwoo out of the dark.

In the distance, an owl hooted, sparking an idea. Junhui glanced around them, as if searching for something. “Hm, I wonder, _hoo_ was that?”

Wonwoo looked over at him and laughed, shaking his head. “Silly.”

Of course it was silly, but it got him out from under the cloud of gloominess, so Junhui considered it a win.

The woods turned quiet once again, with only the gentle sounds of nature to keep them company. He listened to the cheerful chirps of crickets and giggled when he spotted fireflies buzzing around. A gust of wind blew through the large trees, rustling their leaves. Licked by the flames, the firewood crackled. The dancing sticks resumed their movements, controlled by Wonwoo’s whims.

As Junhui shifted to sit with his knees pulled up, something felt different with his left hand. There was a slight friction. Curious, he extended out his hand. Just then, the silver band around his ring finger caught the light of the fire and winked.

With wide eyes, he asked him, “Wonwoo, why am I wearing your ring?” He remembered seeing it right before he lost consciousness. Right before he felt his lips—

“One of them.” Wonwoo showed him the identical one on his ring finger. “So that no matter what, you’ll benefit from my spells.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought that by simply holding onto you, I would be able to share my powers and allow you to breathe underwater, too,” he explained. “But that obviously failed, since you nearly drowned.”

Junhui nodded, frowning at the bad experience.

“And so.” Wonwoo met his gaze. “That’s why I kissed you.”

With the confirmation out in the open, Junhui’s heart hitched all the way to his throat. He felt warm and tingly all over. He couldn’t recall many details, or any at all, for that matter, so it really shouldn’t fill him with so much elation. He bit down on his lips, attempting to regain some sense of composure. “O-oh, right.” He cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately, I acted too late, and you still passed out. Sorry about that.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I… Thank you for trying to help.” His face felt so hot, he hoped the glow of the fire could hide the blush.

“Mm. Let’s avoid near deaths situations from now on, yeah?” he chuckled, and Junhui smiled, glad to move on.

It wasn’t wise to dwindle on such thoughts. Wonwoo was a Prince. Not only that, he wasn’t even from Junhui’s world. Nothing good could come from growing too attached. Junhui shook his head, snuggling into the circle of his arms and convinced himself that he believed it.

That night, Junhui woke up in a cold sweat, totally breathless. Lying awake, he checked himself, making sure he was where he had been before he went to sleep. A look to his left showed Chan still curled up under the thick blanket, sleeping. Wonwoo was lying a few feet away, his back to Junhui.

He let out a breath of relief, wiping his brows. Everything had looked so real, he almost doubted that it was a mere dream. The experience was so different than when he dreamed with Wonwoo. For one thing, he wasn’t an active participant. Things didn’t happen to him. Rather, he was a bystander, watching the events unfold like a movie. And that had been the worst part. Not being to do anything as he watched.

He shuddered, wishing he could banish those pictures out of his mind forever.

Crawling on all fours, he reached Wonwoo and shook him gently. “Wonwoo, Wonwoo. Wake up,” he whispered.

“Junhui? What’s wrong?” he mumbled sleepily, sitting up.

“I just had a dream and—”

“It’s okay, it was just a bad nightmare. Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” he vowed, pulling Junhui close to him. His voice was so deep and close to his ear, Junhui shivered involuntarily.

Getting a hold of himself, he tried to shake the other awake once more. He doubtedWonwoo was fully awake, just conscious enough to hear him. Barely.

Wonwoo leaned back against the log they had used earlier as a bench, cradling Junhui against his chest. He hugged him like a body pillow, fingers scratching at his nape like he would a cat. Did he imagine Junhui to be a human-sized kitty?

“Wonwoo.”

“Hm?” Gently, he rubbed a hand over Junhui’s arm. “You’re cold. It’s cold,” he mumbled, feeling around for a blanket to drape over them. Wonwoo must be _really_ sleep-deprived, he assessed. Well, maybe he should just start talking. Hopefully, that’ll wake him up.

Refusing to get distracted by his warmth and the pleasant feeling Wonwoo created on his skin, Junhui opened his mouth, “Wonwoo, the day Professor Larkin took you to his cottage...”

“Hmm...” he murmured, still rubbing Junhui’s arm.

Junhui pressed on, forcing himself to focus on the dream rather than the chest of the person he was lying again. “Were you wearing a blue shirt?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Still nothing. _What?!_

“You had a little cat follow you. Professor Larkin was lecturing about the woods, the trees.” The caresses on his arm stopped. “But you didn’t want to hear him talk about that ecology lesson, you wanted to see the cottage because you wanted to mix potions and spells.” Wonwoo held Junhui out and looked into his face, finally seeing him. “And once you got there, there was no door, but he taught you how to create one.”

“Junhui, how do you know all that?” he asked slowly, completely awake and focused now. _Finally!_

“I just dreamt it… among other things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A LOT HAPPENED 😮
> 
> but honestly, wonhui flirting game is STRONG. i feel like they're not just teasing each other, but us as well. WHAT WAS THAT FAKEOUT, HUH??? (shut up, swanny!) so um... does it count? lol. idk who is more unlucky: THOYJunnie or OUD Junnie in terms of first times 😅
> 
> chan spending most of the chapter sleeping is such a mood LOL
> 
> anyway, i hope this was informative and fun! thank you very much for reading!
> 
> see you on saturday!  
> xoxoxo
> 
> P.S.: sorry for the cliffhanger 😅


	6. Discoveries in the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun recounts his nightmare, and the following day WonHuiChan hikes to Professor Larkin's cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: blood, mild violence
> 
> -

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo asked. Under the glow of moonlight, his brows furrowed as he frowned in apprehension.

Junhui pushed a nervous hand through his hair. “I don’t know how, but I… I saw you, but it wasn’t _you_.” His words failed him.

Fortunately, as Wonwoo watched him, eyes as dark as a starless night, he seemed to understand the emphasis. Better than anyone, he would know that he hadn’t visited Junhui’s dreams for a leisurely stroll tonight.

“I saw you and Professor Larkin walking in these woods. The two of you discussed the plants and herbs, the animals. You crossed that same river, then you arrived at his home not long after. He showed you how to get inside the cottage with a spell. And then...” Junhui stopped. The vibrant images flashed back to his mind.

Wonwoo gently put a hand on his arm. “Junhui, what else did you see?”

“Men—Soldiers. That short man we saw at _Healing Bites_ with Warwick, he ordered them to search the cottage. They took it apart, ransacking the place, turning everything upside down. They were looking for something—maybe you? I don’t know…” Junhui shook his head, wincing at the violence. Thank goodness Wonwoo hadn’t been hiding there. “When they couldn’t find you or any clues to where you were, they left.” He was glad the forest was so quiet because he could barely hear his own voice.

“Is that all you saw?” Wonwoo asked softly. If the events disturbed him, he didn’t let it show. He remained very calm as Junhui continued to narrate the terrible nightmare.

“You were there, too. You... they caught you...” Wonwoo’s eyes in his dream were so pained and full of guilt, but also hopelessly defiant. Junhui’s heart ached from seeing his anguished face again.

In the dream, soldiers hauled Wonwoo away. He didn’t go willingly, not even when his arms were locked behind his back with thick cuffs; he fought and struggled against the two men holding him dow. Before he could make his escape, though, the rest of the troops were alerted. Just as Junhui had feared, they didn’t refrain from using violence to contain him.

One of the men kicked the back of his legs, then both forced him down onto his knees. The sound of bones hitting hard ground thundered in Junhui’s ears. He couldn’t help grabbing the side of his head, trying in vain to block it out. _Wonwoo…_

A third man walked into view, eyes cold and cruel as he leered at their prisoner. Refusing to back down, Wonwoo continued to fight the men restraining him, but they were too strong. Suddenly, the man whipped out a riffle.

In icy jolt shocked Junhui into action. He leapt forward, his body moving before his brain could come up with an actual plan. But he wasn’t fast enough.

The soldier swung the weapon and struck Wonwoo in the stomach. Junhui gasped, skidding to a stop, at a loss for what to do. Wonwoo grunted, but grit his teeth as he curled in on himself, breathing through the pain. Around him, the cowards laughed and sneered. He paid their mockery no mind. Haughtily, he raised his head, flicking the hair out of his eyes. He said something to the man who hit him.

The man’s features distorted into a scowl, and he smacked the gun across Wonwoo’s face. An audible crack echoed around them as metal hit bones.

A guard yanked his head up, showing the cuts and the bruise forming. Wonwoo spit out a mouthful of blood, fiery glare strained on the apparent leader of the brutes. Forced to continue kneeling in place, Wonwoo endured the insults thrown at him as the leader walked around in a semicircle and stopped behind him. There, with a jeer, he struck Wonwoo’s back with the sole of his boot.

Junhui screamed, running to him. But right as he got within reach, a soldier moved and walked right through Junhui.

_What_ …

Stunned, Junhui stumbled back.

He didn’t have time to ponder the situation. Wonwoo’s heavy breathing snatched his attention away. The injured prince hissed as he was propped up again. The leader strolled around to face again, grinning in contentment as he yanked on Wonwoo’s hair to watch closely at the expressions of agony. In a very good mood, the soldier asked something from Wonwoo; however, his smile quickly faded as Wonwoo remained silent, eyes as defiant as ever.

The man huffed, disdain written all over his ugly features. He let go of Wonwoo’s hair. Lifting his arm, he gestured for someone from the back. The men scrambled to obey his orders. The heavy and ominous clinging of chains soon reached them. The leader gave Wonwoo one more chance, but the prince only offered him a glare of disgust. Irritated, he raised his boot and delivered a brutal kick to Wonwoo’s ribs. Then, he walked away.

Sucking in broken cries, Wonwoo writhed on the ground, arms still twisted cruelly behind his back. Other soldiers arrived and restrained him as the ones with the chains tethered the cuffs to the links.

“Come, Your Highness,” they mocked. “Your throne awaits.”

Junhui took in a deep breath now, reminding himself that it had been a nightmare, willing the vivid images to disappear forever from his memory. He pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes, rubbing to no avail. The second he saw darkness, the vision of Wonwoo’s anguished expression flashed across his mind. He saw the blood splattering on the ground; he heard the cracking of bones. He couldn’t do anything to stop them.

As if a dam had burst, Junhui felt something in his chest crack and shatter. Suddenly, tears flooded his eyes and poured down his face, drops falling one after the other. He didn’t understand the fervor that took over him. He hardly cried. He was usually good at channeling his negative emotions into something productive, but he was beyond logical thoughts at this point. His chest ached.

“Junhui!” Wonwoo frantically checked him over. “You’re okay! It was just a nightmare.”

“Won—Wonwoo!” he hiccuped, having a hard time breathing.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be alright.” He pulled the crying boy to his chest. “I’m right here, kitten. Calm down. Shh, it’s okay.” Rocking them back and forth, he murmured softly, letting Junhui burrow into the crook of his shoulder and grip around his shirt.

“P-promise me…” he tried to speak over the lump in his throat. “Promise me you won’t do anything reckless,” he pleaded into his shoulder. When Wonwoo didn’t reply right away, panic surged, and Junhui tightened his hold around him, urging, “Please, promise me!”

“Shhh…” Wonwoo rubbed soothing circles into his back. “Don’t get worked up. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Junhui whined, distraught and afraid, burrowing deeper into his warmth. “I don’t want… I don’t want the nightmare to become real.”

Stroking the red strands at the base of his nape, Wonwoo hummed. “I promise, kitten. I promise you’ll never have to witness what you saw tonight,” he vowed, then continued to calm the boy’s frantic sobs with his tender touch and soothing voice.

Junhui was uncertain how long he cried, but eventually, the tears ceased, and he laid limply against Wonwoo’s chest. The latter carefully maneuvered them around, lying Junhui on their makeshift sleeping pallet to rest more comfortable. His mind felt too muddled to do much more than obey Wonwoo’s prompting.

Eventually, he felt the latter’s even breathing behind his back, and he relaxed, reassured. As drained and exhausted as he was, he should be able to fall asleep right away, yet he continued to lay there, staring off into the woods. Part of him cringed at the irrational way he had acted, ashamed that he had probably bothered Wonwoo with hisincessant crying. Mainly, though, he reflected on Wonwoo’s promise. At the very least, even if he had completely made a fool of himself, he had gotten Wonwoo’s word: _you’ll never have to witness what you saw tonight_.

With a sharp intake of air, he realized that Wonwoo hadn’t promised anything at all. Being as stubborn and determined as he was, Wonwoo really would stop at nothing in order to achieve his goal—including putting his own life in danger.

Wonwoo didn’t promise Junhui that he would be careful.

Wonwoo simply promised to keep Junhui away from seeing him pay the price of his rebellion.

Fresh tears rolled freely down Junhui’s cheeks, slowly soaking the blanket under him.

Blinding sunshine pierced through his eyelids, forcing Junhui to shield his eyes with his hands and wake up. The sun shone through the layers of leaves and branches, creating patches of yellow and pale green everywhere. Furtive footsteps scurried away as the residents of the woods started to garner more food. It seemed like the forest was just waking up for a new day, too. Closing his eyes a moment, he tried to gather himself. A massive headache was working its way into his system, and the dried tear tracks pulled at his skin.

“Ugh...” he groaned and rubbed his face. Some metal banging and clanging prompted him to find the source.

Across the fire pit, Chan had already woken up. He probed at the cooking ware they had used last night, apparently examining them.

“’Morning, Junhui,” he greeted once he saw him.

“Hey, Chan, uh, what are you doing?”

Chan stood up, shaking his head. “I think a bear or some other creature came for a visit last night. It licked clean the pots and pans,” he said.

“Oh.” Were animals much more sneaky in his world? “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Me, neither.” He sighed. “I gotta get Wonwoo to take that stupid sleeping spell off of me,” he mumbled. So Chan hadn’t heard Junhui’s mental break down last night. _Whew!_

Instantly, he whipped his head around searching for Wonwoo, only to hurt himself greater. “Ow...” he groaned, holding his head in place.

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked, momentarily stopping with the pots to run over.

“I’m fine. I just have a massive headache.” Offering him a shaky smile, he urged Chan not to worry.

But the younger turned pensive. “Hmm. I think I should have something. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Then after his announcement, he jogged away from their campsite and into the woods.

A few seconds too late, Junhui called after him. “It’s okay! You don’t need to go out of your way!”

“It’ll only take a second!” Chan called back.

Junhui really hoped he hadn’t gone to find Wonwoo. Junhui still needed time to come up with a way to face him after last night’s fiasco. Just the thought of it still made him cringe. There was no point in lingering over the shame now. He needed to actually start the day.

While Chan was gone, Junhui slowly got onto his feet, careful not to make any jerky movement. He went to their small reserve of water and wet a towel to wash his face. Once clean, he approached the campfire. The ambers had dwindled at some point in the night, but he noticed a pot of coffee still steaming. Wonwoo probably prepared it before he went wherever he did this morning. Junhui really hoped he hadn’t scared him off.

Groaning, he went to sit on a log. He watched the surroundings for a few seconds, gingerly looking this way and that, waiting for Chan to return. He played with the lid of the coffee pot, sniffing at the aromatic smell. Maybe some coffee could help clear his head, he thought, reaching for a cup.

Just as he brought it to his lips, he heard a distraught cry behind him. Chan snatched the cup away, his eyes as stern as an adult scolding a child. Junhui didn’t understand why he was so mad, but he couldn’t help shrinking back a little at the intensity. Was the coffee not supposed to be consumed at breakfast?

“Am I not allowed to drink it?” Junhui asked tentatively, pointing to the steaming cup in younger’s grasp.

Chan shook his head severely and set the cup down. He took a seat on the next log. “Are you insane?”

After last night’s show? Possibly, Junhui thought.

“You can’t get rid of a headache with coffee,” he stated.

“Oh.”

“Here, this should help lessen the discomfort.” He extended his hand out, showing him a few berry-like fruits Junhui did not recognize. They somewhat were a combination of a raspberry and blueberry, although they were as red as strawberries.

“What are they?” Junhui asked, as Chan emptied them into his palm. Taking one of them, he looked more closely at it. Nope, nothing he ever saw. They smelled really good, though.

“Rosettes. They’re kind of sour, so be careful,” he informed him.

“That’s fine. I like sour.”

Chan’s brows rose up and his mouth formed an O. “You do?”

“Yeah. I used to bet my friends how many lemons I could eat in five minutes.”

At the thought, Chan shuddered and grimaced like he was the one who ate a whole lemon. Junhui giggled.

“Anyway.” Chan shook it out. “Rosettes are good for headaches. Feeling better yet?” he inquired. “Or do you need more?”

Junhui swallowed the last berry, then strangely realized that the headache had disappeared before he was even aware. “Wow! I wish pain killers worked that fast back home,” he exclaimed.

“How long does your medication usually take, then?” he wondered, curious.

“Hmm, thirty minutes?”

Chan grimaced again, obviously appalled. “How do you _survive?”_

Junhui laughed. “Now I wonder, too. Thank you for the berries. They helped a lot.”

“Good! I’m glad. So uh…” He threw a glance at the pan on the side of the fire pit. “Do you know how to cook?”

Junhui laughed. “Sure. Let’s get breakfast ready. I’m hungry, too.”

Chan helped him gather more twigs and branches, then built a new fire. In the meantime, Junhui walked to the river with the pan and plates, washing them with some liquid Chan handed him. He assumed it was some sort of magical dish soap. While he cooked, Chan watched him intently, as if prepared to take on the next Iron Chef cook-off.

It was strange to think about Wildflower Grove—the “real” world—while Junhui sat in the woods of this enchanted land. The more he thought about it, the more incredible it seemed.

“Wow, you must be a real pro in the kitchen back home,” Chan commented as Junhui flipped the eggs into his plate.

“Nah, I didn’t get to cook all that much because of work, but I experimented a lot of new recipes I found online.”

“On what?”

“Er…” He scratched his head, not sure how to explain the world of the internet to a (more or less) fairytale character. “It’s like… a network where you can explore various topics. Like, a _huge_ library.”

Chan nodded slowly, hopefully getting the basic idea.

“Do your parents know you left with us?” he asked after a short pause.

Junhui turned the bacon in the pan, calmly answering him. “They passed away a few years ago, so I live with my grandma. Wonwoo says she has no idea because of the spell he used, so.” He shrugged, smiling a little. “Ignorance is bliss, some say.”

Chan lowered his head, picking at the edge of the eggs with his utensil. “I didn’t know about your parents,” he said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.” He sounded so young, like a little boy apologizing after a mistake.

Junhui could sensing his heart softening.

With everything that happened, he hadn’t had the chance to consider how difficult this entire situation was for Chan. Unlike Wonwoo, he had to watch his home be destroyed. As much as Wonwoo felt the guilt, Chan lived through the atrocities and the fear. His entire life was uprooted. How helpless must he have felt when he and Minjae fled the castle? Did he see his aunt and uncle get captured by the enemy? What sort of terror did he have to overcome in order to survive until now? He didn’t just lose his home. He lost a parent, too. To make matters worse, he lost his father over a matter concerning his own cousin.

“Channie…” Junhui whispered. Setting the pan aside, he hesitated a little, but watching the slumped shoulders of the younger, he threw formality out the window. Chan was just a kid, and he needed comforting.

Junhui scooted over to share the same log and hugged him. The boy stiffened momentarily, surprised, but he gradually relaxed. Junhui gave his back a few rubs. “It’s okay to cry, you know?” he said softly.

Sniffling, Chan raised a hand to rub at his red-rimmed eyes. “Does the ache ever go away?”

“Eventually, yes. You have to give the wound time to heal first, though.”

The boy nodded, wiping the tears away.

Junhui patted his head, hoping a little humor will help. “No matter where I go, I know my parents will always smile down at me. Even if I travel to this world.”

It worked. Chan chuckled lightly.

“If you ever want to talk, I’ll be happy to lend an ear.”

Looking heavenward, Chan breathed out, then cleared his throat. “I just feel really remorseful,” he admitted eventually. “About the last time I saw my dad.”

“What happened?”

He grabbed a stick and poked at the grass. “It was after we fled into the countryside. He told us that he had to report to Uncle Hyunwoo in the morning for a meeting on strategies that could push back Warwick’s troops, as well as methods to locate Wonwoo. Instead of helping…” Chan paused. “Instead of helping, I told him that they were wasting their time. That Wonwoo had a good reason to leave, and they’ll never find him.” Groaning at the memory, Chan threw the stick into the flames. “My dad asked if I knew anything about Wonwoo’s whereabouts. Bringing him home would turn the tides of the war, he explained. But I refused. I refused because revealing his location would be no different than offering him to Warwick as prisoner.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Despite my dad’s attempts to change my mind, I didn’t want to listen, because I thought I was protecting Wonwoo from getting controlled by some power maniac. The next day, he left for the Capital. A few days later, we received news that Warwick captured all the commanding officers and soldiers, along with the King and Queen.” Picking at his half-eaten food, he mused, “I still wonder why my dad didn’t tell Wonwoo’s parents that I knew where he had gone.” He looked up at Junhui, his head cocked to the side.

Chan wanted an answer, but Junhui couldn’t give him one. He honestly did not know why his father would go off with the knowledge that it was futile. That the chances of finding his nephew were impossible. Maybe he and Wonwoo’s parents simply waited for a miracle.

“I don’t know, Channie,” Junhui told him frankly. “But I do know that no matter what, your father loved you. And he wouldn’t want you to feel guilty.”

The younger nodded absently. “Yeah, I know. Thanks for listening, Jun.”

“You’re welcome.” Junhui smiled. “Any time you need an ear,” he tapped on the shell of his own ear. “Come to me.”

Afterward, it seemed as though the invisible weight on Chan’s shoulders lifted a little. His smile came a little more readily, and he even laughed at Junhui’s silly puns.

The pair ate the rest of their breakfast in comfortable companionship, with occasional questions Chan had about Wildflower Grove, such as what the “metal boxes with wheels that rolled down the streets” were, and the reason behind everyone’s obsession with the strange rectangle in their hands. Junhui wished he had brought his phone along just to show him. All in all, it was fun to talk to Chan, but in the back of his mind, Junhui was starting to worry about Wonwoo. Admittedly, he had been initially thankful that he didn’t have to face him first thing in the morning, but it was getting later in the day, and Wonwoo hadn’t returned yet.

“Where is Wonwoo anyway?” Junhui asked casually.

“He said he’d be back after breakfast. Wanted to explore the woods or something,” Chan said. “Probably practicing his magic again,” he mumbled as he cleaned up.

“Does he do that often?”

“As often as he can. He gets pretty obsessive when it comes to proper magic wielding practices. He’s always been a workaholic, even before he found out about the prophecy.”

“I see. What about you, Channie? Do you have powers?”

Chan paused his task to look at him. “Me? Of course not.” Junhui didn’t understand his tone. As if it were a basic fact that everyone should know. In hindsight, Minjae did mention that Wonwoo was the only Gifted one of the family.

“But you were the one who opened that portal for us to escape through,” Junhui recalled.

“Oh, that,” he waved it off and went back to packing up the cooking utensils. Junhui shook the dried leaves and dirt from their blankets and folded them neatly, listening to Chan go on. “That was just a spell Wonwoo taught me in case I wanted to see him. But nah, I wasn’t born with magic.”

“So you don’t need magic in order to perform spells or use potions?”

“Well, a potion is a potion. Anyone can use it. A spell is a bit more complicated, but if you’re taught properly, then you should be able to perform the simple ones.”

Junhui must have looked a little lost, because Chan chuckled and explained further. “I guess it’s different for you, since you come from a place without magic. But here, the land itself has its own magic. It’s nowhere as strong as that of a magic wielder, especially if they’re from the Royal bloodline, but it’s enough to fuel easy spells. Like…” He tried to think of one. “Ah!” Grabbing a stick, he drew a few shapes and strange letters in the dirt. Then he rummaged in his pocket to pull out an acorn, which he embedded into the soil. In the blink of an eye, a little sprout pushed through the loose mound of dirt.

“Whoa!” Junhui gasped in delight, gently stroking one of the tender leaves. “That’s amazing!”

Chan laughed. “You spent a whole week with Wonwoo and you think _this_ is impressive?”

“I think everything is impressive,” he told him.

“Okay, I suppose that’s fair.”

By the time the two of them finished cleaning up, Wonwoo finally returned to camp. His behavior showed no difference; he acted as though last night hadn’t happened, and for that Junhui was very grateful. Discretely, he sighed in relief. It might take a bit more time for the embarrassment to fade, but for now, Junhui was determined not to make it weird and awkward.

“You missed breakfast, Wonwoo. But there’s some bread left if you’re hungry.”

“I’m fine. I had some before I left.”

“Did you know Junhui can cook? It was great!”

Junhui felt warm at the praise, but also a little shy. He stood up and pretended to stretch his arms, giving him an excuse to turn his back on the cousins.

He heard Wonwoo laugh. “I’m sure his food was delicious.”

“So what took you so long?” Chan wondered.

“Ah...” Wonwoo sounded satisfied. “I actually found a trail easy enough to follow. Even a novice like Junhui can hike through it with no problem,” he laughed.

Normally, Junhui would have retorted, even knowing Wonwoo baited him with the joke. But right now, he actually felt like floating on clouds. Seemed like Wonwoo was adamant about not bringing up the events of the previous night. So with that reassurance firmly in his grasp, Junhui just laughed and finished packing up all of their gear.

It was incredible how all their supplies actually fit into two small backpacks, but what else could he expect from magical backpacks? He actually put his arm in the bag just to see, and he cried out in excitement when he couldn’t touch the bottom. For a second, as he eyed it, he wondered if he could squeeze himself inside. They got on the road, though, so he didn’t get a chance to try.

Wonwoo took the lead, leaving Chan and Junhui walking in the back. From time to time, Chan would hitch his backpack higher, like what Junhui used to do at school to alleviate the heavy weight of the books. Because the cousins apparently had a thing for shouldering everything themselves, he declined the help when Junhui offered it.

“It’s all right, Jun. I’ve had to carry heavier bags of potatoes. You just watch your step.”

Dumbfounded, Junhui gaped at him a little. It went without saying that he was pretty clueless about this land, but that didn’t diminish his ability to carry things. He was made of flesh and bones, right? He wasn’t a gingerbread cookie who could crumble.

Still, they marched forward, neither one of them conscious of that little rant going on in Junhui’s head. Although Wonwoo did make his heart skip a beat when he looked over his shoulder briefly after the end of Junhui’s silent diatribe. Immediately after, he turned back around and continued without a word. _Whew!_ Junhui mentally wiped at a drop of sweat. That would be just perfect: Wonwoo being able to hear his thoughts…

Chan hitched the backpack up again, prompting Junhui to mutter, “Just because you have doesn’t mean that you should keep at it.” He pointed to the bag. “It’s heavy. Just hand something over for me to carry, too.”

Chan didn’t look pleased at all, but he reluctantly swung the backpack over his shoulder and searched through it. “Here.”

Junhui gave him a flat look. “Really?”

“You said something, didn’t you?” he snickered. Up front, Wonwoo laughed at him, too.

Rolling his eyes, Junhui plucked the spoon out of his fingers. “Ridiculous.”

“Hey, we were raised to put the people above all else,” Chan retorted. “And that means not burdening them with something if we can do it ourselves.”

“But I’m not even a citizen of Serenity Woods!” Junhui pointed out, waving his arms (and the spoon) around.

“You’re a guest,” Chan agreed. “Which makes it even more important.”

Groaning, Junhui stole a glance at the younger, then attacked when he least expected it.

Chan burst into laughter, fending his attacker off. “Stop stop stop!”

“I’m a guest, so that means I can do whatever I want!” Junhui exclaimed in victory, dodging out of Chan’s attempt to tickle him, too.

“No, stop!” Chan continued to laugh, his laughter contagious and very pleasing. Junhui couldn’t help laughing along, too. But his attack was still relentless. “Okay! Okay! I give in!”

Satisfied, Junhui let go and steadied him. “I win!” So distracted by his victory dance, he didn’t watch himself.

Granted it was his own fault for getting carried away, but really, how was he supposed to know the bushes in this realm were so dangerous? He supposed he should have been more carefully, nevertheless, when walking in the woods of a foreign place. But he still thought Chan overreacted.

In the midst of Junhui wiggling around carelessly, Chan yanked on his wrist and screamed right by his ear. “Watch out! I told you to be careful! You could have gotten your whole leg melted off!”

Ear ringing from the scream, Junhui couldn’t quite catch everything Chan said. Something about his leg melting off? “What?” he asked, dazed. He winced as he rubbed his ear.

Chan used a shaky finger to point at a small bush that was composed of purple and green leaves. It looked like a bowl of salad, to be honest. Which made Chan’s terrified expression a little funny.

“That is called devil’s smolder for a reason.” Junhui blinked at him. “If its resin touches your skin it will burn it to the bone!” he exclaimed through clenched teeth.

With widened eyes, Junhui flitted away, hiding behind him. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” Looking down at him, he patted his shoulder. “A simple ‘Careful, Jun!’ would have been sufficient, you know,” he mumbled as they continued walking.

Wonwoo, all this time, didn’t seem to want to get involved in their little drama over a deadly plant that looked just like a salad. Of course, Junhui should have known that he would find the situation hilarious. After all, Junhui was getting scolded by a kid three years younger.

“I know,” Chan sighed. “Sorry for shouting, but I promised myself that I would never let anyone get attacked by that monstrous plant. Not after it happened to me.” He shuddered as he remembered the experience.

“You survived it?” The words slipped out too fast. Junhui didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, but from the way Chan reacted and his vivid description of the consequences, it didn’t sound like many people would have escaped their fate.

“Alright, so I exaggerated a bit,” Chan admitted. “It won’t burn your flesh to the bones, but it sure felt like it!”

“What does it do, exactly?”

“If you get the resin washed out quickly enough, then nothing. It just leaves behind a mild sting. But before that, it burns to no end,” he shuddered again.

“Yikes! Well, are there any other deadly plants I should know about? Before I accidentally step on one and squirm on the ground awaiting death.”

Chan laughed heartily at that, adding, “As if Wonwoo would let that happen.” He didn’t leave Junhui any time to get embarrassed, though, diving right into a quick Survival 101: the Serenity Woods Edition.

As he began to point various plants out, Junhui realized that a lot of them had very strange and funny shapes. On the other side of a fallen tree, he saw that devil’s smolder plant again, which he made sure to avoid. As they kept going, Chan picked up a stick to make the lesson easier to follow. He showed him the kinds of plants to avoid as well as the ones to find in case of emergency. Like that rosette berry.

“Now unless you are dying,” Chan said, using his stick to poke a teal, oval-shaped fruit in the nearby bush. “Unless you are dying and have lost all senses of taste, then this should give you plenty of energy. But prepare to throw up right afterwards,” he informed him.

“Alright, hopefully it won’t get to that point,” Junhui said.

Chan chuckled. “We won’t let you get to that point,” he promised, confident. Junhui smiled. “And this would be very valuable to you if you got hurt.” He bent down and tore off a big fat leaf the shape of a spade. “Just break the outside skin and rub it against the wound. Then just keep it on there until you can find a doctor,” he instructed.

The plant reminded Junhui a little of aloe vera, except that the leaves looked yellow. Gotta tuck that information away safely in case of emergency.

As they continued, and Chan pointed out more plants and fruits to him, the forest gradually turned darker. It might have been due to the sun moving west, but then Junhui doubted even in Serenity Woods could the sun move that fast. In this area, the trees grew closer together, resulting in a thicker canopy of leaves. Few rays of sunlight could pierce through the layers and make it down to the moist and dirty ground.

The terrain also changed. Instead of the smooth trails, they moved onto uncharted land, it felt like. Moss grew everywhere, leaving no apparent path. If one were to get lost, it would be very difficult to retrace their steps. He didn’t notice much animal life, aside from bugs. The bird songs sounded more and more distant, and he hadn’t spotted a squirrel in nearly half an hour.

What he did notice, though, were Wonwoo’s backward glances. He couldn’t be sure if they were to keep an eye on Chan and Junhui, making sure they didn’t get lost, or if Wonwoo sensed someone following them again.

The silent inquiries flew out of his head the moment Wonwoo stopped walking abruptly. The boys in the back shared a brief look, before turning their gazes to Wonwoo.

“There’s something up ahead,” he said. “Stay behind me and be careful.”

Chan and Junhui nodded, forgetting all about the plant lessons. Wonwoo resumed walking, slowly moving across the forest floor. He was much more cautious than earlier. He swept the area with his eyes, ears perked up, ready for anything strange. Neither Chan nor Junhui dared to voice their questions and concerns at what suddenly made Wonwoo so alert. Their footsteps grew quieter. Junhui could only hear the faint sound of the leaves crushed under their shoes and their ragged breaths. The forest was silent.

A few feet away, they all saw it.

Something small and shiny was lying on the ground, definitely not belonging here. With only a few streams of light, the surrounding remained dim and hazy. Junhui couldn’t clearly make out its shape, but from here, it looked like a piece of jewelry. Did someone drop it?

Wonwoo threw Chan a quick look and received a nod from the latter. He walked up to the item. When Junhui attempted to follow him, Chan held him back.

“Hold on,” he whispered, his eyes intent on Wonwoo as he confidently marched forward.

About a yard away, he stopped to study it. At that moment, the clouds shifted, and a ray of sunlight shone on the object. Thousands of light beams bounced off of it, one for every color in existence. The spectacle was phenomenal, beyond words, but Junhui didn’t have time to admire it.

A low buzzing sound seemed to emanate from the object. It sucked all the beams of light into itself. It flashed a couple times, then suddenly, a column of light exploded out of its center, blinding the three of them. By the time Junhui could open his eyes again, he gasped.

The beam flattened into a disk and flew at them.

Chan yanked Junhui flat on the dirt. The wave of energy swept over their heads in a swift, hot blast. The trees groaned, shaking in its wake.

When Junhui opened his eyes again, he saw Chan scrambling to get up, leaves and pine needles stuck in his hair. Junhui helped him up, but his gaze darted immediately toward Wonwoo. Much to his relief, the latter had already gotten back up, dusting the dirt and leaves from his clothes and hair.

“You guys okay?” he asked, as he walked back to them.

“I think so,” Chan replied, getting rid of the pesky pine needles.

Junhui looked over at Wonwoo, ready to ask him what happened, when he noticed the latter gripping at his upper arm. Blood stained the sleeve of his shirt and seeped through his fingers

“Wonwoo!” Junhui exclaimed, rushing toward him.

But the latter backed away. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is. Just need some honeydew. Chan, could you—”

“On it!” He disappeared through the trees.

Junhui wrung his hands, not knowing what to do as Wonwoo winced and took a seat on a tree stump.

“Are you sure honeydew is what you need?” he asked, clearly wondering if Wonwoo’s head hadn’t suffered, too.

“I can’t heal this. I can’t heal a wound caused by magic.” Alright, so he answered one of the questions that bounced in Junhui’s head at that moment.

“Yet some honeydew will?” His voice sounded very skeptic. For a good reason, he thought. How was honeydew going to help? And where the heck would Chan find one in this forest? Unless Junhui was blind, he was pretty sure he hadn’t spotted any around here.

“Weren’t you paying attention to Chan earlier?” Wonwoo asked him as he gingerly peeled off the outer layer of his clothes. He hissed trying to pull his arm through the sleeve. Then he bunched up the tunic and pressed it over the wound. Junhui averted his gaze. There was a time and place to admire Wonwoo’s great physical physique; now was not it.

Recalling everything Chan taught him today, he really couldn’t remember any of them involving honeydew. “He didn’t say anything about a melon,” Junhui told him.

“You’ll see when he comes back.” Wonwoo shut his eyes and gritted his teeth.

Without anything else to do, Junhui leaned over him to examine the gash. Not that he could see much, considering the shirt Wonwoo pressed over it.

“So, looks like you got Chan to talk,” he casually commented.

Junhui glanced up. His eyes were purple despite his injured arm. “Yeah, I guess so. Is that good?”

“Yeah. I know he had a lot on his mind after his father was captured, but I couldn’t get him to open up. He probably feels really conflicted.”

“He talked to me a little bit about that this morning when you were gone.”

“Really?” Clearly, Wonwoo was surprised.

Junhui nodded. “Yeah. I think he really wanted to talk it out, but he couldn’t ask anyone. Not you, not his mom.”

“Yeah.” Wonwoo sighed and looked toward the trees, gaze distant.

“He respects and loves you a lot, you know,” Junhui said softly. “Just… give it time.”

Wonwoo nodded, but didn’t add more.

Just then, Chan emerged from the other side of the forest, holding fat, yellowish, spade-like leaves. He roughly peeled back the outer skin and rubbed the gooey substance against Wonwoo’s arm. The latter flinched a little, but quickly relaxed once the effects of the sap kicked in.

“Thanks, Channie,” Wonwoo said, taking over the leaf.

“Sure!”

While waiting for Wonwoo to finish, Junhui plucked one of the leaves from Chan’s grasp. “This is called honeydew?” Junhui asked with a laugh. “What a strange name for a plant.”

“No, it fits perfectly! See how the sap is the same color as honey? And it comes out in droplets like dew.” Chan asked.

“Well, where I come from, honeydew is a kind of melon,” he revealed.

Chan gave him a funny look. “Well, now _that_ is weird.”

Junhui giggled.

“Ah! Yes!” Chan seemed to remember something important, eyes round. He clapped his hands. “Wonwoo, I saw the cottage!”

Wonwoo paused for a second while putting on a new shirt. “You did?”

“Yes, but it’s guarded.”

His cousin sighed then went to pick up the apparent magical object. “That explains why this is out here.”

“What is it, exactly?” Junhui asked.

“It’s a protective amulet that was used to be placed outside Professor Larkin’s cottage. For it to be here means that Warwick found the cottage.” He gave Junhui a look that said it all. What Junhui saw in his dreams had already happened. At least, only the part where Warwick and his men ransacked the place and dispersed all the protection spells away. While his mind swam in the terrible images of the nightmare, Wonwoo started to speak to Chan.

“How far is it?” he wanted to know.

“About fifty yards that way. There was only one guard visible, but there could be more hidden somewhere. I guess they expected you’d come.”

“Well, one or twenty guards, I’m going inside regardless,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“Yeah, but you can’t just go barging in,” Junhui chirped up. “Maybe a distraction can help, right?” That usually worked in the movies.

Wonwoo hummed, thinking. Then his purple eyes flickered. When he met Chan’s gaze, the latter also seemed to have come up with an idea. That should be great news, except that they turned to Junhui with scheming grins, and that filled him with dread instead.

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I said I’d help you in any way I can,” Junhui grumbled as Wonwoo tightened the knot under his chin. “Why do I have to do the embarrassing thing?”

Wonwoo chuckled, patting his hood-covered head. “Because they’d recognize Channie and me. Besides, you’re the one who likes dressing up.”

“I regret telling you my secrets.” Junhui made a face at him.

“A little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Hmph!”

“Think of it as going undercover.”

Tugging at his bangs, he asked, “Was this really necessary, though? The guards don’t know my face, anyway.”

“Better safe than sorry, right? Moreover, the guards in the countryside saw three people fall through the portal. Even if they don’t know what you look like, they know enough to be suspicious.”

“I see.”

“Don’t worry.” He pinched his chin. “I’ll be right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Now was not the time for Junhui’s heart to skip beats. “I know,” he resigned to his current fate.

“Just follow the script, and it’ll be over before you know it.” And with that, he nudged Junhui forward. The latter nearly tripped on the hem of the hood, but he managed to straighten out and walk out of the trees.

_Get into character, Jun_.

As he approached the bored, portly guard standing a few feet in front of the cottage door, he went over again the script the cousins came up with. He really wondered if all the theatrics were necessary, though, especially with the getup Wonwoo put on him.

He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and hitched the small basket around his arm. _Get into character, get into character, get into character…_

The sleepy guard snapped to attention, raising his gun and pointed it at Junhui. “Where do you think you’re going, girlie?”

“Oh!” Junhui gasped, stumbling back. Clearing his throat discretely, he pitched his voice as high and soft as his singing one. “I am so sorry for disturbing you, sir.” When he guard didn’t do anything but glare at him, he took it to mean his acting was perfect. “Mama asked me to come see Professor Larkin and ask for a spell to help our vegetables grow.”

The guard eyed him, probably questioning Junhui’s sanity. “And where did you come from? You’re not some kind of spirit are you?” he demanded. “Show yourself!” He tried to sound brave, but his voice was already shaky. Perhaps this might be easier than they thought.

Junhui brushed the itchy hood back, shaking his hair out. Red waves tumbled past his shoulders. He hadn’t worn his hair this length in years. It felt almost foreign.

The guard gaped at him like a fish out of water. Maybe he really did think Junhui was some evil spirit coming to snatch his life away.

“I’m from... from...” Crap, what was that place Wonwoo told him to say again? Diamond Lake? “Diamond Lake. Is the Professor home at this moment, please?” Junhui boldly walked past him to the cottage.

“Hey hey hey!” He snapped his mouth shut and shooed Junhui back. “I don’t know how you haven’t heard, but all magic wielders are now serving our King Warwick at the palace.”

“Oh, really? Well, I’m sure I can find that spell in here anyway. It can’t be that hard to find.” Junhui kept on walking toward the door leaving him behind him. Checking the door knob, it was locked just as Chan thought. Damn it.

“It’s locked,” Junhui said with a small pout.

“Of course! I have orders to keep that door locked,” the guard shouted.

“So you keep the key to this cottage,” Junhui clarified, smiling sweetly.

He grunted. “Indeed.” He patted his big belly, trying to look strong and powerful. Junhui fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Could you please open the door for me to find that spell and be on my way?” Junhui pleaded, eyes wide and innocent. The man looked at him, hesitating. “Please, sir. I’ve traveled so far to get here. I cannot come home empty handed,” he spoke in his most sincere voice. He pursed his bottom lip, clasping his hands under his chin.

The guard groaned. “Make it fast,” he mumbled, pulling a keyring out and inserting the correct one into the keyhole. Junhui watched, making sure to hear the tumblers inside click as the mechanism unlocked. Once he was sure, he slid to the side.

No sooner had he done so, that a loud _thud_ resounded. Junhui flinched. The guard collapsed on the ground, and the door creaked open. Chan juggled a very thick branch in his hands, laughing maniacally.

“YES! Down with one hit!”

“He’s not dead, is he?” Junhui wanted to make sure. His conscience would not leave him alone otherwise.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “Big bump when he wakes up, though.” He took the stick with him as he went inside. “Man, I’ve always wanted to do that. It was exhilarating!”

Wonwoo took out some rope and tied the guard’s hands and feet together.

“Not the brightest fellow,” Junhui commented as he looked at him.

“Can’t argue with that,” Wonwoo agreed. “I’m sure he’ll think twice the next time some redheaded nymph comes and seduces him,” he smirked.

Junhui gasped, swatting him. “I did no such thing! He was terrified of me!”

Standing back up, Wonwoo tugged on his hair, grin playful. “Yes, you’re terrifying, princess.”

By the way his grin widened, Junhui knew he could see the blush spread. Junhui fought the urge to hide behind his hands. “A-anyway! I completed the mission, so can you get me out of these clothes now?”

Wonwoo arched a brow, eyes flickering up and down his body.

Junhui could have combusted on the spot. “Not like that! Can I just please get my old clothes?”

Laughing, he waved a hand across Junhui. In an instant, the clothes changed to the outfit Minjae had given him.

“Thank you—Wait! What about my hair?”

Wonwoo cocked his head to the side, assessing him. “You don’t want to keep it long? It looks really good on you.”

He whined. “Wonwoo… Stop teasing me!”

Sighing as if it were a great tragedy, Wonwoo waved his hand over Junhui’s head. The latter immediately ran his fingers through the short strands.

“Thank you very much.” He turned, ready to head in and explore, when he noticed that Wonwoo didn’t follow right away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

Maybe it was Junhui’s imagination, but could Wonwoo be reluctant to go inside? Growing up, he must have precious memories learning here. To see it ransacked must be quite disheartening. Was he stalling by teasing Junhui just now?

Spirits low, he followed after him.

Inside, it looked like a tornado had hit. Even though Junhui had seen visions of it, facing it now proved shocking, regardless. All the shelves that used to hang on the wall now littered the floor in broken pieces. Bookcases had been turned over and tossed whichever way, crushing piles of books and rolls of parchment. A table laid sprawled in the middle of the room, all of its drawers pulled out and tossed somewhere; Junhui couldn’t help thinking of a body thrown aside after a mugging.

Glass shards crunched under their feet as they slowly entered each room, and multicolor power dotted the floorboards along with ripped book pages. Not even the curtains survived. Large and brutal cuts tore through the fabric. Swords had slashed through, hoping to bite onto warm flesh. By the windows, broken pieces of clay laid among soil and dried up seedlings and herbs.

Wonwoo walked around, trailing his fingers on the wooden furniture, his mind drifting off somewhere. A time of peace and joy, perhaps. Junhui watched him as he picked up a book from the floor and flipped through the volume. He read a few lines from it, then moved on to another damaged book, another torn piece of parchment.

A few bottles remained untouched, hidden in the corner by a toppled bookcase. A cloud of brown dust fluttered in the air as Wonwoo picked one up and blew on it. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The sadness was clear as day.

Junhui couldn’t spot Chan anywhere in sight, so he assumed the younger had gone to explore the second floor. Knowing that Wonwoo probably needed time to adjust to this disaster, Junhui started to look around the artifacts on his own. Most of the pages he came across were written in a language he didn’t understand, so he skipped those. He found trinkets and candles, bunches of herbs and crystals. Even though it was futile, he still tried to clean up the mess as best as he could.

Something shiny and metallic caught the reflection of the sunlight. Junhui took a closer look and realized it was a small silver crescent moon. It was attached to a frayed ribbon. Maybe a bookmark, he thought. When he tried to pull on it, it didn’t give way. Either it was stuck under something or the other end of the ribbon was attached to something.

Carefully, he shifted the books and documents aside, stacking them in neat piles until he found what the ribbon connected to: a small journal. The cover used to be of a scarlet shade leather, but with the years, the color had faded into a reddish brown. He flipped through the inside, trying to get a sense of its contents.

Wonwoo’s name made him stop at one page. Written clearly was the prophecy that brought forth today’s predicament. Junhui turned a few more pages, brows furrowed. The majority of the small journal contained only riddles. And dates. Without the year accompanying them, it was impossible to determine what any of it meant. What did riddles have to do with Wonwoo’s prophecy?

The floors creaked as footsteps thundered from the second floor, heading for the stairs. A few seconds later, Chan appeared with a journal quite similar to the one Junhui was holding, except that the cover was a lighter color, and its condition seemed newer.

“Wonwoo, I found this in Professor’s Larkin room. He left a secret code written on the wall. This was under the floorboards where the note said.” Chan beamed.

“What’s in it?” He put down the book he was reading to come take a closer look at Chan’s find.

“It’s his journal. According to this, he found a secret cave somewhere that would give any sorcerer unlimited power. The cave is full of some rocks that generate power and intensifies the sorcerer’s own magic infinitely.”

Purple eyes widened. “Do you think Warwick knows about this?”

“It’s highly possible,” Chan said. “The cave is somewhere in Everett.”

Wonwoo ran a hand through his hair, and let out a frustrated sigh. “Damn it!”

Chan grabbed a chair, checked whether it was sturdy enough to hold his weight, and sat down. “On the bright side, this means Warwick no longer needs you to get more power.”

Wonwoo shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. Raising his golden eyes to the ceiling, he said, “He never wanted me, Chan. He wanted to make sure I was out of the way for him to get to the cave without my intervention. He wanted me to run away so it could give him a diversion to attack and find these magical rocks without me to stop him.” He shook his head in disbelief again.

“Then did he pursue you to Wildflower Grove?”

“He probably planned on killing me. When he couldn’t find me, he resorted to kidnapping. For all we know, his potion could have transported me right into a pit of fire.”

Chan’s handsome features contorted into a pained expression. “You’re right. I wouldn’t put it past him. Then…” He tapped on the cover of the journal. “Do you think he was responsible for you finding out about that prophecy?” Chan asked, thinking over Wonwoo’s reasoning.

The older snorted. “I’m sure he could have found a way, somehow. And now that he caught all the sorcerers and witches in the land, nothing is stopping him from getting to that cave,” Wonwoo said. “He’s had months, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had already found it.”

Finally getting a chance to interrupt, Junhui spoke up, “We haven’t lost yet.” He looked up from the pages of the red journal, meeting their equally skeptically gazes. Junhui grinned, waving the journal in the air. “We have something he doesn’t. We know how to find that cave.”

With delight, Junhui watched as Wonwoo’s golden eyes returned to their magnificent purple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awwwww chanhui are cute :') *throwback to junnie making DN (and the others) toasts before school*
> 
> once again, junnie got to cosplay, but not exactly in the way that he wants it 😂 
> 
> but dang! what do you think of the reveal of warwick's motives???? hmm much to think about...
> 
> thank you very much for reading! i'll see you next time! oh, and be prepared to solve some riddles realllllllllly soon!  
> xoxoxo


	7. Solving Riddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes figure out how the riddles are connected to the quest and solve a couple of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've grabbed your thinking caps! can you solve the riddles before our heroes? ;D 
> 
> (they solve 2 in this chapter, but there is one riddle that won't be solved until later~ no cheating by looking it up online!)
> 
> -

Wonwoo reached out for the journal, and Junhui quickly handed it over. Looking through the pages, Wonwoo’s brows furrowed as he studied the various riddles and puzzles. While he worked on making sense of them, Chan dove into the other journal in search of an answer, too. Junhui was left with nothing to do but ask questions.

“Does it say anything about those riddles in there?” he wondered as he bent down to look over the younger’s shoulder. Chan flipped through the pages slowly, giving them time to scan their contents.

“I’m not sure,” he replied a little absentmindedly. “But if I’m not mistaken, I remember seeing something earlier about—Ah!” Stopping at a page, he jabbed his finger on a scribbled note in the corner. He grinned brightly in satisfaction. “Right here.” Lifting the book, he let Junhui read.

_‘The riddles are the key. Follow the clues and you shall find what you seek.’_

“Professor Larkin created those riddles to hide the location of the cave,” he explained. “And he wrote all of them down in that book with Wonwoo’s prophecy, so it must mean that he wanted you to find it! That’s how it’s all connected! So all we have to do is follow the instructions, and then _Bam!_ We find the cave and destroy Warwick!”

“You make it sound so easy, Chan.” Wonwoo closed the riddle book and turned to see them. He rubbed a hand over his face. “These riddles aren’t simple brainteasers for kids. Moreover, we have no way of knowing if the answer we get is even the correct one.”

“Doesn’t the journal say anything else about it?” Junhui wondered, as he took it from Chan’s fingers. “Let me see it.”

He skimmed through it, skipping the various spell and potion breakthroughs. As fascinating as those reads could be, they didn’t have time to linger. Finally, Junhui came across a small paragraph containing a bit of instructions on how to use those riddles. “Here we go!” he declared.

“What does it say?” Chan asked eagerly.

“‘Every story has a beginning. A book makes no sense if you skip pages. In order to move forward, you must have a good footing. Like building a house, each brick is essential. You can only wear one shoe on each foot; therefore, step on one riddle at a time. Along your travels, keep your eyes open. You might pick up a clue or two. You’ll know you’re on the right track, if you spot my mark.’”

“Wait, what?” Chan looked confused, and frankly, Junhui could sympathize. He understood enough to know the professor gave out instructions, but not enough to determine what they meant. “Forget the riddles. I can’t even understand what the instructions mean.”

“It means that we need to go in order from the first page to the last. We can’t just skip riddles that we can’t solve.” Wonwoo clarified. “If we solve them in order, we should be able to find clues at the locations they take us to. Incorporating the clues we find on location and the riddles in the book, we’ll be able to find our way to the cave.”

“So it’s kind of like a scavenger hunt,” Chan summarized. “But a lot more confusing and difficult, and not nearly as fun.” He sighed.

“Cheer up, Channie,” Junhui patted his shoulder. “What happened to your enthusiasm?”

“You’re right.” He clapped his hands. “Let’s get started!”

Laughing, Junhui turned to Wonwoo. “So what does the first riddle say?”

Wonwoo flipped to the right page and read out loud. “‘Rivers flow through me, but I do not get wet. Forests flourish within me, but there are no trees. I look over many towns, but not a single house. When you find me, look behind me.’”

The boys all shared a look, minds blank. Wonwoo read it again, but still, the metaphorical lightbulb remained sadly off. This was going to be a lot harder than Junhui thought. Granted, he expected the riddles to be difficult considering their purpose in hiding and protecting a secret powerhouse, but he had hoped that they would be solvable.

Lightly tapping a fist to his mouth, he tried to think. Riddles are designed to trick people. The answer is generally so obvious no one even thinks about it. Which is what makes them so challenging. Because people oftentimes omit the most obvious answers from their head.

If Junhui took the riddle and turned it around somehow to see the logic behind the words, locate the trick, then maybe they would have a chance to get to the answer before he turned ninety.

“The answer has to be in this cottage,” Junhui decided, looking around them.

“What makes you say that?” Chan asked.

“Because, this is the first clue, and the journals were found here. Which means that the starting point has to be this cottage,” he reasoned. “Moreover, Wonwoo said that the professor told him to come here if he ever needed to find a solution.”

At the corner of his eye, he saw Wonwoo nod to himself as he slinked away to start searching the room. The other two followed suit.

“Could it be a spell or potion?” Junhui asked.

“I doubt it. The riddle calls for three specific things: rivers, forests, and towns. What has all three elements in one?” Wonwoo mused aloud.

Splitting up to cover more ground, they each attacked a corner of the house. With the state of the interior, they tried to work in a systemic manner in order to avoid rummaging through certain items more than once and overlooking others. Junhui skimmed over book spines and parchments, piecing together torn papers. What he did the most was cough, though. Being abandoned for months and having everything turned upside down, the cottage had dust covering almost every surface. A lot of spiders and tiny bugs had crawled in to take refuge, too. He found a lot of those, but no signs of the answer to the riddle.

Maybe he took the wrong approach, he mused. Maybe the starting point was the answer to the riddle itself? If that were the case, then they needed to find a place that contained rivers, forests, and towns, yet without water, trees, or homes. A ghost town? But the last part of the riddle said to look behind it. So it had to be an object of some kind. Right?

A thunderous sound jerked Junhui back to reality and out of his musing. Wonwoo had flipped a giant bookcase down onto the floor. A cloud of dust billowed through the air, causing him to cough. With a wave of his hand, he dispersed the cloud.

“Hasn’t this place suffered enough?” Junhui kid, taking a break from his own search to observe Wonwoo. They’d been at it for over an hour now, and they had very little to show for their efforts.

“I think I got it,” Wonwoo said calmly. He bent over and retrieved a piece of paper pinned to the back of the bookcase. Upon closer inspection, it was a map. He held it up, saying, “Rivers but no water, forests but no trees, towns but no homes.”

“Whoa,” Junhui gaped in awe.

“Chan, come here. We got it!” Wonwoo shouted toward the second floor, and a few seconds later, Chan appeared, full of excitement.

“What is it?”

“A map,” Wonwoo answered, the grin so magnificent on his face, Junhui couldn’t help but stare. Since he was too busy explaining the solution to his cousin, Junhui didn’t get caught. _A small victory_.

“And this specific map is the only one Professor Larkin has of its kind. None of the others had all three elements on them.”

“Amazing!” Chan exclaimed.

Wonwoo chuckled, mussing the younger’s hair.

“Ah, stop!” Laughing, he stepped away. “Oh, yeah! Look behind it!”

“Right.” Wonwoo flipped the map over. Very faintly on the back, written in some very light ink was, no surprise, another riddle. Oh, boy.

“Another one?” Chan groaned, voicing Junhui’s inner dread.

Wonwoo chuckled at their long faces. “You looked so eager earlier,” he commented.

“Well, that was more than an hour ago, when I didn’t have dust in my lungs,” Junhui mumbled, but Wonwoo just laughed, shaking his head and proceeding to read.

“‘Walking is impossible for me; I can only run. I have a mouth, but I never speak. I have a head, but I never dream. In my bed, others sleep.’” He looked at the others for comments and inputs.

Junhui had none.

“Well, it has to be concerning the map, right? Otherwise why waste our time finding it?” Chan started to reason. Junhui nodded, agreeing to his logic. “So let’s look at the map and maybe we’ll find the answer.”

Wonwoo turned the torn and old map around to the front again. It was a very simple map of the two nations: Serenity Woods with green trees and forests, then Everett with lots of blue rivers and lakes. Small dots indicated houses far from the main towns. The group observed the map for a long moment, each speculating the meaning of the riddle. It was surprising how detailed the illustrations were drawn, especially the water bodies and the way they circulate through the land, and then out into the ocean. It even showed the old riverbeds—

“Oh, my god!” Junhui suddenly shouted, startling both of the others. “A river! The river runs, it has a head and a mouth, and only fishes sleep in the riverbed. The answer is river!” Junhui was so excited that he actually got the answer, he couldn’t help jumping up and down.

“Wow, Jun, way to go!” Chan playfully punched his arm.

“Good job,” Wonwoo chuckled. “Okay, if we keep going at this speed, we’ll hopefully find all the clues necessary to get to that cave before long.”

“But what does it mean, though? Are we just going to follow some random river in Everett? I mean, how are we going to know what to do once we get there?” Junhui wanted to know.

Wonwoo thought for a moment. “Maybe the riddles will guide us there.”

“Are we leaving tonight? It’s already late,” Chan observed, looking out the open door. “D’oh! And that guard! What are we going to do with him?”

Whoops.

Junhui guessed they all forgot about their unfortunate portly friend. Chan was right, what were they going to do with him? Seemingly, he was still unconscious. But what if he was pretending and actually heard all of the information they discussed? Letting him go now, even if far from here, would not guarantee that he wouldn’t report to Warwick. What an idiotic thing to do! Junhui scolded himself, gnawing on his bottom lip. The guard had probably heard everything by now, and he might already be plotting his revenge.

“Do you have a memory eraser spell or potion?” he wondered. He had no idea if those existed, but it was worth a shot. “Or can you brew one?”

Wonwoo looked up from checking on the guard’s ties.

“Since we can’t be sure if he heard anything, erasing his memories would be our only way to know he won’t report to Warwick.”

Wonwoo nodded, pensive. He scanned the room. “I can try. I’ll have to see what ingredients remain.” While he worked on gathering the rare unbroken bottles and dug around for bunches of herbs, Junhui waved Chan over.

He pointed to the unconscious body. “Let’s get him inside and close the door in case something else comes up.”

With a lot of difficulty, the boys managed to take hold of his limbs and lug him inside. Chan must have hit him pretty hard, Junhui considered, for him to still be out cold hours later.

By the time the boys dropped him in the middle of the room, Wonwoo had already pulled out a cracked mortar, using a pestle to crush some ingredients together. The boys slid closer to watch him work, totally engrossed in the way the smoke that emanated from the bowl changed color every time he added more substances together.

After a minute of smooth maneuvering, Wonwoo stopped, studying the bottles in front of him. Not satisfied, he went to the corner and looked for more. He must have not found what he was looking for, because when he turned around, he wore a frown. His eyes tinged a slight golden hue as he poured the content of a green bottle into the mix.

“What’s wrong?” Junhui asked, shifting his chair a bit farther away for fear something would explode.

“It’s not the exact ingredient I need. To get his memory completely erased, I need ginger and dried edital roots. This is only ginger. Hopefully, this should be enough to erase his most recent memories,” Wonwoo explained.

A little bit longer, and he held the finished product to the air, smiling slightly. Not a moment too soon, either. Behind them, the guard groaned, slowly regaining consciousness.

“Gah!” Chan started, shocked by the guard’s movements. In his urgency, he grabbed the stick he had hit the man with earlier, ready to smack him again if needed.

However, Wonwoo put a hand on his shoulder and approached the guard. He sprinkled the fine powder all over the man. A strange glittery layer covered him, and he coughed. His eyes remained closed.

“Junhui, get the door,” Wonwoo ordered just as he and Chan hitched the dazed man over their shoulders. “Stay here, okay?”

“But—”

“You don’t know the area well enough. Just stay inside. You’ll be safe. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Junhui didn’t want to sit inside and be useless, but Wonwoo was right. If he wandered around, even trailing behind them, he could still get lost and cause even more problems. So he swallowed his complaints and listened.

The boys carried the sleeping guard across the clearing and into the woods. Junhui watched after them from the doorway, until the trees enveloped them completely.

Lifting his face to the sky, Junhui watched the last sun rays of the day as they pierced through the trees. The purple and pink sky was beautiful with the dark branches overhead. But also rather scary-looking, like on a Halloween night. He listened to the faint chirps of birds as they called themselves to their nests, and he watched as the clouds floated across the vat sky.

After a while, his gaze returned to the part of the forest where the boys had taken the guard away, yet he saw no signs of them returning. With each slow minute that passed, the sun moved lower toward the horizon. Still, he saw no movements nor heard any footsteps or rustling of branches coming from the forest.

The cool breeze picked up, blowing through the leaves, creating eery howls. A shiver ran through his body. He couldn’t imagine anyone living here all year long alone. The forest was just so lonely and forlorn. He stared at the woods again. Anxiety mounting slowly, causing him to get restless. He paced back and forth, fidgeting with his fingers, but no luck.

Leaving the door opened, he went inside in search of a flashlight, only to remember partway that he wouldn’t be able to find one here. What he needed was a lantern, right? A lantern and a match. Wonwoo had used one earlier to heat the concoction, so there must be more around here somewhere.

Turning over more papers and books in the dim twilight glow, he managed to find a box with three matches left. These were precious items, he told himself as he hid them in one of their backpacks. Once he located a lantern, he had a good amount of light at his disposition.

Cautiously, Junhui ventured a few steps outside of the cottage, trying to pick up any sign of Wonwoo and Chan. What could take them so long? Did the guard suddenly wake up and struggle? Were there more guards somewhere that they hadn’t seen? What if those savages on horses were still looking for them? Junhui shuddered, not only because of the chilling wind. With those thoughts bouncing around his head, he couldn’t just stand by the door and wait. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he learned later on that something had happened to them while he stood around doing nothing. Uninvited, flashes of his nightmare flitted across his mind. He screwed his eyes shut and willed them away.

Determinedly, he began to walk closer to the edge of the trees that Wonwoo and Chan had entered. He raised the lantern high in the air to chase away the shadows. As he walked, he considered the possibilities of running into a guard. Luckily, they wouldn’t be able to tell him apart from any other villager. He’d keep on lying about his intentions, pretending to be a traveler who crossed through the area and encountered the old cottage. He planned on taking refuge for the night and continue on his way the next day. Seemed like a perfectly reasonable cover story.

Arriving at the forest edge, he hesitated. He didn’t know the woods at all. How would he be able to find his way back? Groaning internally, he wished cellphones were in use here. How did fairytale characters survive? Hansel and Gretel used rocks, but that would waste too much time. Maybe he could find a rope and tie it to one of the trees nearby.

In the midst of forming his plan, branches snapping across the clearing startled him. Junhui jumped, whipping around. His heart was in his throat, emotions a mix between fright and relief at the thought of the boys finally returning. But when he finally faced the direction the sound originated from, no one was there. He gulped. Had it just been a rabbit or something?

He took a couple hesitant steps toward the cottage. A thick layer of clouds had pulled in, covering the moon. He couldn’t see much now. The glow of the lantern didn’t provide as much light has he had hoped, either. Instead, it caused him to have an even more difficult time seeing into the darkness. Unlike a flashlight, which could chase the shadows from a distance, a lantern only lit up the immediate surrounding. In other words, it put the spotlight right over Junhui.

The moment the realization hit, something tapped his shoulder. He jumped nearly a foot in the air, spinning around with a gasp stuck to his throat. Thankfully, he didn’t drop the lantern in his shock, so he could clearly see the person responsible for nearly sending him into cardiac arrest.

“What are you doing out here?” Wonwoo wanted to know, none too pleased. “I thought I told you stay in the cottage.”

Still not quite over the fright, Junhui put a hand over his chest and scowled at him. “You couldn’t have found a better way of getting my attention? I thought my heart was going to give out,” he whined, panting.

“That’s what you get for misbehaving,” Wonwoo retorted.

Junhui pouted. “I resent that! I wasn’t misbehaving on purpose. I just wanted to see what was taking you and Chan so long.”

“Yet I’m sure it didn’t occur to you how much attention you could have attracted by doing so?” Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. “We still don’t know if these woods are safe. Warwick’s men could be anywhere. I reactivated a few of the protection wards that didn’t get damaged inside the cottage. If Chan and I had run into trouble, I still have my magic, and Chan is resourceful enough to escape. You are completely powerless and naive. How do you think you’d manage to get out of trouble, hm? Next time, when I tell you to do something, please just listen to me.”

Junhui’s cheeks burned, but not from getting embarrassed or flustered like he usually did around Wonwoo. No, this was the shame of a child getting scolded, in addition to the upset feeling of having been wronged. The emotions coalesced into a lump in his throat.

Swallowing it down as best as he could, he muttered, “Does being the future king mean that you’re the only one who gets to be worried? You and Chan were gone for over an hour. I had no way of reaching you—no means of knowing whether you were okay or not. You told me yourself that magic is not perfect, and despite all the experiences, Chan is still just a kid. A thousand things could go wrong, and I wouldn’t even know until it’s too late. Do you think I could have quietly sat here and done nothing? What’s the point of me being safe when the people I care about are hurt or in danger?”

Taking in a deep breath, Junhui put the lantern down by his feet. He used both hands to rub at his eyes with loose fists. When he heard no rebuff, he looked over his shoulder. Wonwoo stood a few feet away, watching him with an unreadable expression. In the dark, the color of eyes couldn’t be determined.

“What?” Junhui asked.

Slowly, Wonwoo walked over, not answering the question. Instead, he extended out an arm and flicked his fingers. “Come here.”

Junhui wanted to stay angry. But he just… couldn’t. Not when faced with Wonwoo’s gentle gaze and protective aura. All of the negativity evaporated the second he fell into Wonwoo’s arms. He gripped at the back of the latter’s shirt, muscles finally releasing their tension now that he knew Wonwoo was safe and unharmed. He let out a shaky breath.

Wonwoo closed his arms around him, pressing him tighter against his chest. “I’m sorry for scaring you,” he whispered. “But I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” The soft and melodic voice wrapped around those words made them even more lovely. “I’m supposed to be the one to protect you, remember?” he joked lightly.

Junhui smiled. _Then who is supposed to protect you?_ he wanted to ask, but didn’t dare.

They stood there in silence for a moment longer, long enough for both of them to calm down, then Wonwoo pulled away with a soft smile. “Come on, let’s go before Chan gets so hungry, he starts eating the floorboards.” Junhui giggled as they headed back in.

Thankfully, Chan was not as hungry as Wonwoo had feared. He had already lit up a few candles around the room, saving them all from tripping to death over the various piles of books and broken furniture. Sitting in front of the fireplace, Chan studied the two journals intently, his gaze moving from one text to the other. It looked like he was comparing something.

He was so engrossed in his task, he didn’t even notice Wonwoo and Junhui come in until his cousin closed the door, almost putting out the flames in the fireplace.

“Sorry,” Wonwoo said, moving to rekindle the fire.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you get back,” Chan said absently. “What were you doing outside?” he asked casually, shifting his attention to Junhui.

The latter felt his stomach swoop. To think that he’d been so emotional, he had hugged Wonwoo out in the open like that. How fortunate that Chan had been occupied with the journals instead of walking in on them.

Avoiding his gaze, Junhui searched through their bags for the food supply.

“Looking for you. What took you two so long to come back?” Junhui asked, redirecting the conversation.

Chan just shrugged, blissfully unaware of the older’s intention. “Wonwoo wanted to make sure the guard wouldn’t find his way back here and see our fire,” he pointed to the fireplace. “So we dropped him off pretty far from here.” Then he went back to his analysis.

Taking the food, Junhui moved to the fireplace to cook. He found a nice and sturdy chair nearby and used it to sit in front of the flames. Bending down over that fire would give him permanent back problems. While he cooked, Wonwoo moved to where Chan was sitting and started to ask him about his curious task.

“What are you trying to find?” Wonwoo wondered.

“Well, now I’m just reading through the journals,” Chan answered. “But at first, I thought maybe Professor Larkin might have written down the answers in his diary in case he forgot, but there’s nothing in there.” He sounded so disappointed by that fact, it was rather cute. Wonwoo shared Junhui’s thoughts when he chuckled and roughly mussed Chan’s hair. “Don’t you think he might forget the answer to one of the riddles and never find his way, though?” Chan insisted.

Wonwoo shook his head. “I doubt he would have written down the answers in such an obvious place.”

Chan shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

Once they all got some dinner, they set out the riddle book again and started to speculate what they should do next. Obviously, getting rid of the guard had wasted a lot of their precious time. Now, they would need to form a plan of attack for the journey ahead. They were all sitting on the wooden floor in the middle of the room, with the journals and map spread out in front of them.

“So far, we got a map and a river,” Wonwoo summarized as they studied the clues.

“Right. And we know that the ending destination is in Everett, so no matter what kind of maze these riddles take us on, we’ll have to end up in Everett by the end,” Chan added.

“For now, let’s try to figure out how we can use the first two riddles to plan our next steps in the journey,” Wonwoo suggested.

“I really hope we don’t have to go to every river in Everett and search for a clue there,” Chan commented.

Junhui agreed. “Maybe we should look at the next riddle. It might narrow down our search.”

Chan turned the page in the journal to the next riddle and read aloud. “‘Marble walls as white as milk, lined with skin as soft as silk, in a fountain crystal clear, a golden apple will appear, there is no key to this stronghold, yet thieves break in and steal the gold.’ What does that mean?” He looked at both Wonwoo and Junhui for answers, and neither one of them knew what to say. “I thought we were looking for a river! Ah…” He sighed, holding his head.

Junhui patted his shoulder in sympathy. “It talks about gold and thieves, so it must be something precious, right? What does Everett have that is worth stealing?”

Chan and Wonwoo put on angry and sour masks. “Nothing,” they replied in unison, animosity and bitterness clearly displayed. They obviously saw the country as a worthless dump, where a cruel and cowardly despot lived. While Junhui understood—and somewhat agreed based on Everett’s King’s behavior—they couldn’t keep that attitude if they hoped to win against him.

“Guys!” He clapped his hands together. “Focus. I’m not a big fan of it, either, but we gotta put away our biases and think logically. Are you guys familiar with the towns there?”

The cousins shared a look, and Chan shook his head. “Not really,” Wonwoo answered.

Junhui made a face, not sure how they’ll proceed to the next step if they were already stumped at the very beginning.

“How about we take a better look at the map,” Chan proposed after a minute. “Maybe we missed something earlier.” He smoothed out the old paper, and the three of them poured over it once more.

Junhui couldn’t see anything new. Aside from the art being very detailed, nothing else really jumped out. He even tried to follow each river with his finger, seeing if a tiny clue was hidden among the illustrations.

“River, river, river…” Chan muttered, eyes squinting and head turning this way and that. “Why does Everett have so many?”

“The next riddle talks about wealth,” Wonwoo thought aloud. “Perhaps it’s talking about an affluent town that’s next to a river. Or maybe whichever river has the most prosperous towns along its course.”

Junhui thought that was an excellent idea, but Wonwoo was still not quite satisfied with the ambiguity. He furrowed his brows, eyes intent on the map. Next to him, Chan had already given up, laying flat on the floor and staring up at the ceiling. Junhui could sympathize.

At last, Wonwoo spoke up again. “There is only one town that could fit the term ‘affluent’ and be anywhere close to a river.” He tapped on a spot on the map. “The Warwick River, to be exact.”

Surprised, Junhui let out a low, “Whoa. I’m sure that can’t be a coincidence.”

“Highly improbable. The town of Ashberry is the main site for the import and export of the country.”

“Then it must be huge,” Junhui remarked. “That should make it easy for us to walk around without drawing too much attention, right? Since everyone’s busy with their own thing.” Maybe luck was finally turning.

Unfortunately, Wonwoo shook his head. “Because it’s such a big town, it’s infested with Warwick’s men and soldiers,” he said with a bitter tone and disgust.

“Oh.” Junhui’s spirit floundered.

“It won’t be easy wandering around, looking for clues, hoping to stay inconspicuous.” He stretched his arms over his head.

Chan spoke up, “It’s not like we have much of a choice, though. We’re already running on borrowed time as it is.”

“Then do you have any ideas?”

The younger shrugged. “We can be super careful and disguise ourselves as visitors wanting to tour the country or something.”

“Isn’t that… still really risky?” Junhui interjected. “You’re basically a wanted criminal.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Huh? Doesn’t Warwick have WANTED posters of you all over the place?”

“No, he was afraid his people would revolt.”

Junhui arched a brow. “Shouldn’t they already know? That guard asked me why I didn’t know that Warwick had caught all magic wielders.”

“Well, he was a bit of an oaf, wasn’t he?” Wonwoo snorted. “Warwick doesn’t want the people to know of his coup because some of them—if not most—have some kind of connection to Serenity Woods, be it family or friends, even business. I mean, there’s a reason why the two countries were allies and why no one suspected him of ill-intent.”

“But I don’t understand how he could keep the information from spreading? Wouldn’t the people of Serenity Woods tell their relatives and friends over there?”

Wonwoo poked at his forehead. “What do you think Warwick does with his magic? He’s already put up a magical filter that it’ll keep any information of the coup out of his citizen’s ears. Anyone who visits and returns will have their memories wiped.”

“That is… awful!” Junhui cried out. “So then no one knows that he’s imprisoned your parents and captured all the magical folks? They don’t even know that he’s—” He stopped talking, not wanting to recall Chan’s trauma. “They have no idea that their King is a monster?”

Wonwoo shook his head sadly. “But of course, all magic has its flaws and loopholes. So he still needs manpower.”

“By making his men patrol everywhere? On the off-chance that they’ll spot you?”

“Yes.”

Junhui sighed and rolled onto his back. “How do you know so much when you haven’t been back for months?”

Wonwoo gestured toward Chan. “He kept me updated.”

“Is that what you were reading in the restaurant?” Junhui recalled the pieces of paper Wonwoo would always pour all his attention into and keep away from the young waiter’s curious eyes.

“You noticed?” he chuckled.

Junhui opened his mouth to speak, but he sensed a joke at his expense, so he ignored the question. Knowing Wonwoo, he’ll say something like, ‘Were you staring at me that often?’ Junhui could do without the teasing, thank you very much.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “It’s nice that you were able to keep tabs on your home.”

“Mm. I just wish we could have found out about Warwick’s true intent sooner,” Wonwoo replied, much more serious now. “Maybe then things wouldn’t have gotten to this point.”

Chan smacked him. “That’s not certain. For all we know, if you had returned earlier, he could have sucked out your powers _and_ still pursued the search for the cave.”

Chuckling a little, Wonwoo recalled, “You’re the one who asked me to come back.”

“Yeah, yeah. And it’s a good thing I did, too! Otherwise, you would have been sent directly to his castle dungeons.”

“I know.” Wonwoo patted his head affectionately. “Thanks for having my back.”

The younger’s cheeks turned a little pink as he laughed and gave his cousin a thumbs-up. Junhui watched with a soft smile on his lips.

“You know,” Chan shifted to look at Junhui. “Now that I think about it, my cousin was a horrible pen pal!”

Junhui laughed as Wonwoo protested the opposite.

“Every time I tried to talk to him about anything not related to the crisis, he’d brush me off!” Chan complained. “He’d tell me he was busy with ‘observations.’” He rolled his eyes. “But I suppose that he had a valid reason,” he considered. “Now that I got a glimpse of your world, I understand why!” He laughed.

Chan sounded very enthusiastic whenever they discussed Wildflower Grove, Junhui couldn’t help chuckling.

“There are so many things to watch! Like those... cars and… What was it again—television!” he laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t spend your entire time observing those!”

When Junhui looked over at Wonwoo to see what he thought, though, the latter’s eyes were slightly green on the edges. A slight curve tugged the corner of his lips. “Like I said, I was busy. Junhui can attest to that.”

Put on the spot, Junhui floundered, which caused Chan to laugh, and the subject was thankfully dropped.

The little group spent the night on the floor, all tucked around the hearth. Tomorrow, they would go on the road. Needless to say, a lot of danger awaited them.

Despite his bravado, Junhui was still human. What laid ahead of them terrified him, yet he couldn’t come to regret his decision in following Wonwoo. Fearing the unpredictable and unknown nature of the future was nothing new. He knew he had to step out into the world at some point, leaving the comfort of home and his grandmother. But this was much more than what he had prepared himself for.

He sighed. Maybe having his life turned upside down will show him something he wouldn’t otherwise see. Like a riddle, the answer might be right in front of him, just out of his grasp for the time being.

As he turned on his side and closed his eyes, it was obvious that he would have to work a lot harder to solve this particular life riddle. And who knew, maybe he’ll end up discovering something incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo??? did you solve them? hahahaha
> 
> sorry this chapter was kinda short... next chapter should be a bit longer.
> 
> also, since it seems that you guys have been having a hard time keeping up with the releases, i'll slow down. ch. 8 will be posted on monday instead of saturday. 
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! take care, everyone!  
> xoxoxo


	8. Welcome to Ashberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes run into a bit of trouble in the woods, but make it to Ashberry in one piece.

As an early riser, Junhui was given the duty to rouse everyone up the next morning. They ate a very quick breakfast, then they set off for the road. Although this time might prove to be a different kind of journey. For one, Chan and Wonwoo had assured Junhui over breakfast that they were not going to walk all the way to Ashberry, which looked very, very, very far on their little, old map.

The cousins hadn’t elaborated on how they would travel there, though it would not be with a spell, much to Junhui’s relief. The last time magic had been used to travel, he had been sucked into a frightening vortex and dropped from the sky. Not only was the experience terrifying, it had rattled his brain like a peanut in its shell. Junhui could do without _that_ a second time.

For now, they walked.

The little group bid goodbye to the old cottage, and the cousins took the lead. They spoke in low tones, so Junhui couldn’t overhear, but he figured it must pertain to the steps ahead. He didn’t mind being left out; it wasn’t like he could contribute, since he knew nothing of this world anyway. So while they conversed, Junhui occupied himself with observing the forest, practicing the skills Chan had taught him yesterday.

Every so often, he would look ahead and try to get his bearings on their current path. From what he could tell, they were continuing further into the woods, rather than returning the way they came. Junhui would have thought that they’d head for the nearest site of civilization and catch a carriage or even get some horses (how do fairytale characters travel from one place to another?). Maybe crossing the woods was a shortcut and it’d be less conspicuous. Whatever the reason, it seemed that once they emerged from the woods, they would take whatever secret means of transportation to Ashberry. Junhui wondered idly if it’d be a rabbit hole.

Up ahead, he caught a piece of the conversation about what needed to be done once they arrived in town. Junhui felt a little like an eavesdropper as he hurried his steps and paid more attention.

“Without the usual royal entourage following us, the odds that the townspeople will recognize us right away are pretty low,” Wonwoo said. “As long as we can avoid running into Warwick’s men, we should be able to pass as regular travelers.”

“Shouldn’t we try to blend in, though?” Chan wondered. “I think it’d be safer. Even travelers stand out, right?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah.”

Junhui didn’t really understand how travelers stood out in comparison to regular folks.

“Since we’re at it, how about fake mustaches and beards, too?” Chan laughed.

Wonwoo chuckled. “The plan is to not attract attention, remember?”

The younger shrugged. “Just shooting ideas.”

“We’ll get new clothes to look more like the citizens of Ashberry,” Wonwoo said.

Junhui could no longer hold off on his questions. “Why can’t you just use your powers like you did to fool the guard?”

“Glamor enchantments are usually not detectable—for obvious reasons—but I’d like to limit my magic usage, just in case Warwick has set up traps around random parts of the country,” Wonwoo explained calmly. “Moreover, even if it’s not by much, wearing items that originate from Everett itself can help conceal our presence a little more, since we’re not natives of the land.”

“Ohh…” Well, that made sense.

“Sounds good,” Chan agreed.

“With that said,” Wonwoo looked at Junhui. “Would you mind ‘going undercover’ again?”

The latter blinked. “Huh?”

“They’re expecting three guys, not a lady with her two attendants.”

After the gears turned, and Junhui understood, he gasped dramatically. “You mean, I’ll get dotted on by _royalty?_ Oh, my…” Piling on an extra later of exaggeration, he threw an arm over his forehead and closed his eyes. “What an incredible turn of events! There mere thought of such heavenly treatment has me feeling faint.”

Chan burst out laughing at his over-the-top high-pitched voice, letting the older drape himself over his back.

A corner of Wonwoo’s lips tugged upward in a small smile. “I’m gathering it’s an agreement?”

Junhui straightened up and patted Chan’s back in thanks. “I guess.” He shrugged. Crossdressing was still rather embarrassing, especially when it was just a female version of himself, but he didn’t mind. Especially since he’d already done it once. Ideally, though, he still hoped for the day he could dress up as someone a lot cooler—like an ancient master of cultivation who can control a horde of zombies with a flute. But that seemed improbable in this realm.

“Then that settles it,” Wonwoo nodded. “I’m sure there’s a boutique fit for cat royalty.” He chuckled.

“Hey…” Junhui pursed his bottom lip. But then something rather important occurred to him. “Wait, you said you wouldn’t be using your magic. So what about my hair and…” he trailed off, patting his chest discretely. Well, he supposed he could use socks for _those_ , but he couldn’t just grow his hair out at will.

“What?” Wonwoo turned around, not having heard his mumbling clearly.

Junhui pointed to his head. “My hair. Am I going to have to get hair extensions or a wig?”

“You could,” Wonwoo said. “Or I can get you a potion from one of the beauty shops. The effects are only temporary, but it does the job well. Moreover, it won’t leave my magical signature behind.”

“Those things exist?” he exclaimed, only to shake his head a second later. Even after so many discoveries, magic didn’t cease to amaze him. The others chuckled at his reaction. “Anyway, yes, please. I think a wig would be too risky. I might accidentally pull it off or something.”

At the imagery floated around, Chan laughed heartily. “That would be very unfortunate.”

“It’d be a disaster!” Junhui corrected. “Our cover would be blown!”

“I think most people would just assume that you have fake hair, Jun,” Chan said. “If you saw someone losing their wig in public, is your first thought going to be: ‘There’s a spy among us!’?”

Junhui considered it for a moment. “I suppose not.”

“You _would_ be plagued with a rumor that the Cat Princess has follicular issues, though,” he snickered, and Junhui swatted him half-heartedly.

“I’m going to get one of those giant hoop skirts and sit on you,” he threatened, which only made Chan laugh harder.

With the heaviness of the current crisis and the ticking timer hanging above them like a storm cloud, it felt good to laugh again, even if it was only a brief moment. Junhui felt proud that he’d been able to cheer the cousins up. They may not entrust him with carrying anything other than a spoon and the riddle book, but maybe his other job could be to lift their spirits. Would that make him a court jester?

After they’d walked for a few minutes, Chan thought aloud, “We’re going to have to find a place to stay, too.”

His cousin nodded. “Somewhere on the outskirts of town. An inn there would see more travelers, so we won’t stand out. Soldiers would be easier to spot, too. Once we’ve gotten our disguises, we’ll proceed deeper into town to start looking for clues.”

Chan and Junhui nodded.

“Now we need to solve the riddle itself.”

Chan let out a long sigh.

“Are we going to go rob a jewelry store?” Junhui joked.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, but a faint smile could be seen on his lips. “If only it were that easy.”

“I can’t believe the Crown Prince would condone robbery.” When Wonwoo chuckled, Junhui grinned.

“Hmm.” Chan stroked his chin. “Aside from the gold, what else did it say?”

“Marble, milk, and silk. A fountain. But we can’t trust the wording explicitly. It’s supposed to be tricky.”

Chan sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Maybe we’ll see something that’ll spark an idea when we get to Ashberry,” Junhui said, hopefully.

“I admire your positive attitude, Jun,” the younger praised.

Junhui laughed.

They walked through the woods for the rest of the day, only pausing briefly for lunch, then they were back on their feet again. When afternoon rolled around, he began to feel… off. Admittedly, Junhui didn’t consider himself a professional athlete by any means, but after years of dance classes, he should be able to endure this journey. Yet somehow, he just felt so _tired_. His eyes constantly drooped, and he kept yawning every few seconds. Forget his aching feet, his jaw had started to get sore from the amount of time he’d had to yawn. What he wouldn’t give for some coffee right now. Maybe it was the stress and few hours of sleep finally taking their toll on his body. Whatever the case, he hoped they would arrive to their destination soon, or he might collapse on the forest floor and nap.

By the time the sun began to fade behind the treetops, Junhui couldn’t even feel his legs anymore. A numbness had replaced the aches. He glanced at Chan a couple feet ahead and noticed that the younger’s pace also seemed to have slowed. A small relief knowing Junhui wasn’t the only one feeling out of sorts.

The further they walked, though, the worse the sensations. A faint throbbing began to manifest behind his eyes, and his throat felt scratchy. Whenever he breathed, his nose itched. Did he catch a cold?

Oh, geez. He can’t get sick here!

No, Junhui will not just let his body atrophy because of a cold. So with that thought in mind, he determinedly straightened his posture and marched on. He would get over this, even if by sheer willpower. At first, it seemed like it was going to work. Mind over matters, as people say.

Unfortunately, the burst of energy didn’t last very long. The exhaustion and discomfort gradually took hold of his body once more, causing him to drag behind. He put a hand over his forehead. It felt a little warm and clammy, but they’d been walking for hours. It was normal for his temperature to rise a little. He might have caught a bug, but at least he didn’t have fever.

Kicking aside the dread of being a burden, he swallowed to help with his parched throat and called out, “Wonwoo? How much farther are we?” He winced at the soreness, lifting a hand to rub absently at the column of his throat.

At the sound of Junhui’s raw voice, Wonwoo whipped around. His eyes widened. Did Junhui look that bad? He winced again.

Wonwoo stopped walking, prompting Chan to do the same. “We’re almost there,” he said, his eyes shifting to a slight silver. “Another twenty minutes or so. Do you want to take a break?”

Junhui shook his head before the other had even finished speaking. “No, it’s okay. I can handle twenty minutes.”

Out in his periphery, he noticed Chan opening his mouth to comment, but a yawn caught him by surprised and mangled the words.

“I’m okay,” Junhui reassured them, biting back the grimace and forcing a smile. “Let’s keep go—” He took a step forward, but suddenly, the surrounding turned a shade darker. Junhui blinked, but it didn’t help the onslaught of dots of lights flooding his vision. His body swayed, and the world spun. Losing all control of his limbs, he watched with shock as the ground flew toward his face.

“Junhui!”

He fell back against something warm. Through the blurry and spinning vision, he realized that Wonwoo caught him before he broke his face, but that wasn’t what caused his brows to furrow in confusion. He must have passed out for a few seconds, because something crucial had happened. The cousins spoke rapidly with each other, a little frantic. Chan pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it over his nose and mouth, as if trying to block out something toxic.

“I should have expected this,” Wonwoo muttered darkly, shifting Junhui’s weight around. “Bunch of cowards.”

“We have to wait it out,” Chan coughed. “There’s no way we can keep going like this. Jun can’t even walk!” He waved his free arm around.

“Underestimating them once has led to this, I’m not doing it again.”

Junhui gripped Wonwoo’s shirt, trying to get his bearings, but his head throbbed and his vision kept spinning. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping it’ll help.

“We still have a few minutes,” Chan said. “You can’t make him run like that.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “There’s no time. Grab me a piece of chalk and clear the ground.”

Chan groaned, but quickly followed the instructions. Junhui heard a small thud as the younger threw the backpack down, then came swift rustling, which he gathered were dried leaves and branches being pushed aside. While Chan worked, Wonwoo carefully guided Junhui toward a tree.

“Sit down if you can’t stand,” he said. “It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

“What—”

“Shh. Just stay put and wait for me, okay?”

Before Junhui could answer, Wonwoo disappeared. Without the support, Junhui wobbled and slid along the trunk of the tree. He wanted to open his eyes and figure out what was happening, but his body didn’t cooperate. His eyelids became too heavy to lift, and his limbs weighed as much as lead.

Nearby, the cousins talked in rushed voices, but Junhui couldn’t make out what any of the words meant.

Like a clap of thunder, shouting pierced through the quiet forest. Horse hooves shook the ground.

_Oh, no!_

Junhui grit his teeth and attempted to push himself up onto his feet, but he couldn’t move. A frustrated cry escaped his lips. Tension built, and panic surged in his blood. Were they going to get caught so early on?

“They’re getting closer,” Chan fretted, breath a little ragged.

“I’m almost done,” Wonwoo replied, distracted by something. “Just a few more symbols. Light the candle.”

“Wonwoo…” the younger coughed. “I think… I’m…”

“Channie—!”

Something broke. The scent of lavender drifted through the air, light and sweet. Junhui’s consciousness dimmed.

Water flowed steadily somewhere around him. Was he on a beach? Junhui perked his ears and tried to determine the source. Since he had no idea where he was, he found it prudent to pretend as if he hadn’t woken up yet. He listened for clues and got a feel of his surroundings. The temperature had dropped, and he couldn’t sense sunshine, so it must be nighttime. A cool breeze blew across his skin, and the air smelled crisp, so he gathered that he was outside, instead of underground or in a building. The sound of light waves beating against wood very close by caught his attention, followed by the creaking of planks. Was he on a boat? Was someone rowing? Where were Wonwoo and Chan?

The sobering thought jolted him, and his eyes flew open.

The bright, round moon, surrounded by millions of tiny stars stared down at him from the inky sky, completely clear of clouds. Junhui turned his gaze toward the shore, watching the trees passing him by at a slow and constant speed. Movements at the front of the small boat drew his attention, and he gingerly checked, ready to jump overboard if he spotted anyone suspicious.

Looking past his shoes, he let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Wonwoo’s back. The latter’s shoulders bunched up as he moved his arms and rowed. He didn’t look injured, much to Junhui’s gratefulness.

After a quick inventory of his own limbs, Junhui slowly pushed himself onto a sitting position. “Wonwoo?” he called out.

Wonwoo stopped rowing, turning around to look at him with a tight smile.

“Where’s Chan?” Junhui asked right away. He gripped the top of his knees, afraid of the answer.

But Wonwoo’s smile softened. He scooted to the side a little to reveal his cousin sleeping on the other half of the boat, curled up, and using their backpacks as pillows. Once more, Junhui sighed in relief, nearly all the weight on his chest lifted off.

“He’s fine,” Wonwoo reassured him, returning to his previous position. “You should sleep.” Wonwoo’s voice was so enticing something else squeezed Junhui’s chest. “We’ll be in Ashberry in a few minutes, so get as much rest as you can.” He patted Junhui’s ankle and smiled.

But Junhui didn’t want to sleep. It felt like he’d slept for a hundred years. More importantly, he wanted to know what happened in the woods.

The question must have been written plainly on his face, because Wonwoo said, “We’ll talk about it later. I’m sure Chan would like to know, as well.”

So Chan must have lost consciousness shortly after Junhui did, right? That little piece of information only made him more curious. Seeing as Wonwoo’s eyes remained purple, he assessed that whatever happened then, it wasn’t too horrible, and that they were relatively safe now. That did soothe his nerves a little, but he still hesitated. How could he sleep when Wonwoo had to work so hard? He had to be even more tired than Junhui. Despite still feeling a little disoriented, at least Junhui got to nap.

Seeing as the latter hadn’t laid back down, Wonwoo said, “I’ll take a break once we get there. You’ll have to take the lead. Remember, Princess Kitten?”

At the teasing remark, Junhui couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I remember,” he nodded, finally convinced to lay down.

“Junhui, we’re here.”

He opened his eyes to see Wonwoo leaning over him, the ground unmoving. Junhui rubbed at his eyes and sat up. Their little boat docked at the harbor, among other vessels varying in sizes. Most of them seemed like fishing boats.

In the time that Junhui took to glance around a little, Wonwoo had already helped Chan out of the boat. The younger now stood hugging a pole on the dock, yawning with eyes half-open. Junhui soon joined them.

Although he was a bit less sleepy than Chan, Junhui still felt a little groggy, so he couldn’t fully assess what Ashberry looked like. The town was quiet, with oil lamps lighting the path in a yellow glow. He wondered idly how different everything will be in the daytime.

As Wonwoo guided them through the empty streets, Junhui gradually became more awake. The fog in his head cleared, and he could walk like a regular person instead of swaying back and forth in a drunken manner. Chan, on the other hand, still needed help. Wonwoo flung the younger’s arm around his shoulder and supported most of his weight. They followed the signs to the nearest inn.

The town slept on, or that was what Junhui hoped. They kept their guards up, regardless, eyes scanning every corner for signs of Warwick’s men. The sound of their footsteps on the stone roads worried Junhui, as it had the potential of announcing their arrival in town.

At last, just as Junhui feared his heart might give out from the constant anxiety, he spotted a building with its lights still lit. That must be the inn. Considering the time of night, he dared to hope that they’ll meet with a sleepy inn keeper, and the person won’t retain too many details of their encounter.

While Junhui opened the door for Wonwoo to half-carry Chan past the threshold, he mulled over a credible story to tell the person manning the front desk. It had to be something logical to explain why two people showed up in the middle of the night with an unconscious kid, but mundane enough that it wouldn’t leave a long lasting impression. He just hoped the inn keeper won’t call the police on them on suspicion of kidnapping.

The interior didn’t have much. It obviously preferred practicality over aesthetics, but it fit their little group just fine. As long as the roof didn’t leak, and the rooms had a fireplace to chase the chill, they were satisfied. Junhui spotted a man by the counter, snoring loudly as he leaned against his cheek. _Wonderful!_ Junhui could have almost cheered.

When the door shut, he jumped, nearly crashing his face against the surface. He smacked his lips, bleary eyes turned to the newly arrived guests. He waved them forward indifferently, yawning.

Wonwoo stuck to the shadows, hidden in the spots where the glow of the candles wouldn’t reach him and Chan, while Junhui carefully made his way over. He kept his face lowered, doing his best not to let the sleepy man see him well. Thankfully, the dim lighting helped a lot.

“May I help you, ma’am?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

The greeting startled Junhui a little, but he caught a glimpse of the longer strands of red hair brushing by his shoulders, and he quickly put on a friendly smile.

Since the owner looked ready to be done with him so he could return to dreamland, Junhui used it to their advantage. He completely ignored their cover story.

“I’d like three rooms, please.”

The man yawned wide enough that Junhui feared he might dislocate his jaw. “Sorry, there’s only two available right now.”

“We’ll take it.”

“Great.” The man turned around to fetch the keys, and Wonwoo used the opportunity to walk up and deposit a few coins onto the table. Then he turned around and hitched Chan’s arm back over his shoulders, heading for the stairs.

None the wiser, the inn keeper gave Junhui the keys and told him the rooms to be occupied. Before they had even climbed half the staircase, his snores flooded the first floor again.

Arriving at the first room, Junhui unlocked the door, and Wonwoo deposited Chan onto the bed. They moved around using the moonlight streaming through the windows, and once Wonwoo tucked Chan in, he went to light up a fire in the hearth. Junhui sat on the edge of the bed, studying the younger’s pale countenance. Seeing him so lifeless worried Junhui greatly.

He reached up and brushed the soft hair away from the boy’s eyes. His chest rose up and down steadily. A few minutes later, Wonwoo came over, holding a kettle of warm water. He poured its content into the wash basin and dipped a clean towel into the water. After wringing it dry, he pulled up a chair and began to gently wipe at his cousin’s face. He accomplished the task without saying a word, and Junhui didn’t interrupt. However, when he finished and looked up, though, Junhui couldn’t help wincing. Wonwoo couldn’t hide the torment and guilt swirling in his silver eyes.

Junhui swallowed, hoping his voice wouldn’t shake. “Why isn’t Chan waking up?”

Not answering the question, Wonwoo shook his head. “He’s going to be fine. A night of sleep will take care of it.”

That sounded a little too close to denial, and coming from Wonwoo, it didn’t reassure him at all. Especially when his eyes kept wavering between purple and silver.

“You said you’d tell me later, remember?” Junhui tried.

Wonwoo sighed, standing up to put the basin and towel back on the side table. “It’s really late. Just wait until morning, then I’ll tell you and Chan at the same time.”

When it came to matters that troubled him, getting Wonwoo to open up was like pulling teeth. Junhui wanted to know what happened partly because of his own curiosity, but also because he could see how much it distressed Wonwoo. If Junhui dropped the subject now, he was certain that Wonwoo wouldn’t get a wink of sleep, as he would spend the entire night agonizing over it by himself.

“Please, just go to sleep, Jun.”

The room fell into a deep silence.

“Am I that unreliable?” Junhui asked in a whisper. Upon reflection, maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Just because he wanted to help didn’t necessarily mean that his meddling was welcomed. He rubbed a hand over his arm. “I know I’m more of a hindrance than an asset, since I can’t do much, and you always have to rescue me, but—”

“Junhui,” he sighed. “It’s not… that.”

Sheepishly, Junhui peeked at him, looking through his lashes.

Wonwoo studied Chan from across the room, then settled his gaze on Junhui. “Let’s talk in the other room,” he eventually decided.

Before relocating, he went to check on his cousin once more, watching his childish face sleep, unperturbed. Then the pair headed next door. While Junhui felt around for the matches to light the candle, Wonwoo checked on the window locks, then proceeded to light a small fire in the hearth. Gradually, warmth filled the room.

Junhui took a seat on the edge of the bed, and Wonwoo pulled up a chair.

“It’s not that you’re unreliable,” he began, staring straight at Junhui. “I’m just not used to… talking about my failures. Growing up, I was taught that failure was acceptable only if I reflect on my mistakes and ensure they won’t repeat. It was meant to teach me self-reliance. My parents and Professor Larkin knew that one day, they wouldn’t be around anymore. If they didn’t teach me how to solve my own problems, then how I be able to lead an entire country?”

“So every time you made a mistake, you’d just lock your door and figure things out on your own? Without talking to anyone? Or ask advice or… anything?”

“Yes.”

Junhui frowned, gnawing on his bottom lip. “That sounds… terribly lonely.”

Wonwoo chuckled wryly. “You get used to it.”

Imagining the young, inexperienced prince holing himself up in his room, working hard to solve his own problems caused Junhui’s heart to clench. Objectively, he understood why, and he could see the benefits of such an upbringing in the long-run for someone in Wonwoo’s position, but he couldn’t help feeling upset. Granted Junhui didn’t always broadcast his troubles to the world, but he had good friends he could talk to. They may not solve his problems for him, but at least he had their support.

Wonwoo wasn’t allowed to have that. No wonder he always shouldered everything on his own. It wasn’t only because he wanted to protect the people around him, but also cause he considered it his duty.

Without thinking, Junhui reached for his hand. For a member of royalty, it was more calloused than Junhui expected. It was also cold. Frowning, Junhui placed it between both of his. The action prompted Wonwoo to chuckle lightly.

“Won’t your hands get cold?”

“Maybe, but yours will get warm.”

They sat quietly like that for a long moment, until Junhui could feel warmth returning to Wonwoo’s fingers. He had no idea if Wonwoo planned on sharing anything else, but he wouldn’t mind just holding his hand.

“My bad decisions keep affecting the people around me,” Wonwoo said after another long minute, eyes strained on their hands.

Junhui glanced up.

“When we took the guard away, Chan wanted to throw him down a pit, but I hadn’t allowed it. Not because I felt particularly merciful toward Warwick’s pawn. I just didn’t want his death to hang over Chan’s head. So we just threw him in a cave miles away. Unfortunately, somehow, he managed to be found by some patrols. The potion worked, though, so he couldn’t remember us, but they still put out an alarm that intruders broke into the cottage.”

That explained the shouting and horses chasing after them.

“Since they assumed we were simple thieves, they used one of the generic immobilizing powders. It’s invisible and has no smell. It puts the victims under a temporary state of dizziness or slumber, for easier capture.”

Now it made perfect sense how the sensation had appeared so suddenly in the afternoon, yet subtle enough that Junhui thought it was a mere cold sneaking up on him.

“You reacted to its effects faster, because you weren’t exposed to magic growing up,” he explained. “Chan was able to endure it for a while, but he fell under, too.”

Junhui remembered briefly how Chan had coughed and sounded really sick, too.

“Were you not affected because you have magical immunity or something?”

Wonwoo flashed a brief smile, but it quickly disappeared. “It’s low level magic.”

“So it’s like using handcuffs to contain Superman?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo smiled a little at his attempt at humor. After Junhui nodded for him to go on, he said, “Before they caught up to us, I had to use my powers to create a portal.”

That must be what the cousins were discussing, with the chalk and the candle and lavender scent. Idly, Junhui wondered if that portal had been less turbulent than the one that took him to Serenity Woods, or if he’d been so out of it, he couldn’t have felt the hits.

“Wait, I don’t understand something,” Junhui interrupted. “If their police powder is meant to be temporary, then why is Chan still asleep?” His eyes widened. “A-and if you used your powers, does that mean they know it was us? Can they track us here?” As the questions spilled from his lips, the blood began to drain from his face.

No wonder Wonwoo was so unsettled and upset. Not only did he have to think about all of these questions, he’d had to take care of Junhui and Chan all on his own, too. It was a miracle he’d been able to maintain even the semblance of calmness over the past few hours.

Junhui attempted to squeeze his hand, but Wonwoo spit out a bitter laugh and stood up. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes glowing golden. “Just one screwup after another,” he muttered, pacing the floor. “I neglected to remove the sleeping spell on Chan, so when he breathed in the powder, his body overloaded. If his constitution was less than healthy, he’d be dead.”

Junhui gasped, but Wonwoo just shook his head, that self-loathing smile still lingering on his lips.

“As for whether they could have tracked us, I really can’t say. If they were simple soldiers, then probably not. They wouldn’t know enough, but they’d still be able to report back to Warwick that magic has been used by someone other than a permitted person.”

“But we’ve been here for a while now,” Junhui pointed out, trying to find something positive to hang onto. “If he knew, we’d be arrested already, right?”

“Mm. Time will tell, I guess.” Tiredly, he rubbed his hands over his face. He walked to the fireplace and stared intently at the flames. His back was rigid, shoulders tense. He put a hand on the mantel, fingers curling as if trying to control his temper.

As soon as the thought occurred to Junhui, his eyes flickered to the fire. The orange flames surged, burning up the logs, making the embers crackle. He couldn’t see Wonwoo’s face, but he could guess at how much restraint the former put on himself. He needed an outlet, but he couldn’t risk putting them in danger again.

The first time his powers and emotions wavered out of control, Junhui hadn’t understood. Now that he did, he felt compelled to deescalate the situation. He got off the bed and approached Wonwoo’s imposing back. Hesitating only for a second, he wrapped his arms around Wonwoo’s torso and hugged him.

The flames in the hearth sizzled and whirled in response to Wonwoo’s surprise, but Junhui held on, pressing his face against the slope of the blond’s shoulder. Neither spoke. By the time morning came in a few hours, he was sure this little moment would feel like just a fleeting dream. One he desperately wanted to hold onto, unwilling to let it end. But ultimately, one he was powerless to keep.

Not very different from Wonwoo himself.

He came to Junhui in dreams, would he vanish at the first sign of sunrise, too?

The more time they spent together, the further Junhui fell, and he was terrified. No matter the outcome of this battle against Warwick, Junhui knew he couldn’t stay by Wonwoo’s side forever. Maybe he was a fool for plunging headfirst, but he was willing to take whatever pieces of happiness he could get in the meantime.

Even knowing that his heart will probably end up shattered in the end, he couldn’t make it stop yearning, couldn’t make it stop caring.

Couldn’t make it stop hoping.

A soft tap the next morning woke Junhui up. Out the window, the sun had barely made an appearance behind the roofs of the building across the street. Another tap. Reluctantly, Junhui got out of bed, wrapped himself in the blanket, then shuffled to the door.

A little girl with dark hair stood on the other side, beaming at him. One front tooth was missing. From the patches of flour covering her dress and face, and the delicious smell of fresh bread, he guessed she must have come from a bakery somewhere.

“Good morning!” she greeted him, even curtsying. “I have a delivery for Moon Kitty.”

Junhui closed his eyes and tried not to laugh lest the little took it the wrong way. “Thank you very much.” He took the small letter from her.

“Bye-bye!” Having accomplished her mission, she turned around and skipped downstairs.

Closing the door, Junhui taped the letter against his chin. Why did Wonwoo send him a letter when he was right next door? Unless he wasn’t anymore? Obviously, that girl came from somewhere other than the inn. Puzzled, Junhui tore open the letter, taking out a piece of paper with neat handwriting.

_Jun, get ready to go soon._

_Don’t leave anything behind._

_Half an hour, back door._

_-JW._

_P.S.: Your brother is fine, by the way._

_A little peeved that he slept through everything, but otherwise hralthy._

Half an hour, a shower, and a complete room inspection later, Junhui walked downstairs, checking them out of the inn. The inn keeper barely gave him a passing glance. Since they had paid the night before, he simply took back the keys, then wished Junhui a good day. Relieved, he walked around to the back and met up with the others. He was so glad to see Chan back on his feet, his own steps felt a little lighter.

“Nice disguises,” Junhui giggled at the bucket hats obscuring practically their entire faces. “Where did you even get them?”

“Paid the newspaper boys,” Wonwoo replied, flicking the rim of his. “Oh, wait a second.” He motioned for them to return to the shadows of the back alley. Making sure no one was around, he waved a hand over Junhui’s hair, returning the red locks to their original length.

“Hm?” Junhui brushed a hand through it. “How come?”

Wonwoo handed him a vial the size of his pinky. “To avoid any adverse effects when you take this.” On the label, several different hairstyles were drawn.

“Wow!” Junhui exclaimed. “A single bottle can do this much?”

“Mm. There’s directions in the back, but one sip should last half a day. Just think of whatever style you want, and _poof!”_ he teased.

“Wow!” Junhui exclaimed again, eyes wide with excitement. “Amazing!” Turning to Chan, he nudged him with an elbow. “Who’ll have rumors about follicle issues now, huh?”

The younger laughed. “As long as you don’t forget to take the potion before the effects wear off.”

Junhui made a face at him. “Whatever. I’ll save it for after we get our new clothes. No one can see your faces now, anyway.”

They emerged from the alley and joined the crowds. Now that it was daylight, Junhui could assess the town a little better. If it weren’t for the fact that he considered this country enemy-land, he would actually love the beautiful streets of Ashberry. With cobblestone roads and brick houses, it looked adorable. Some buildings had small balconies, and on each, flower baskets were hung. He also realized how travelers stood out among the locals. Everyone’s attires were very flashy, with lots of ruffles and gems. Some wore giant feathered hats.

Out in the distance, the cheerful sounds of the markets could be heard as the citizens poured out for the fresh produce, and the merchants greeted them in joy. Junhui took in a deep breath of the fresh air and sunshine.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot,” Chan spoke up, ruffling through his backpack. “We got breakfast!” He gave Junhui a small paper bag. “We didn’t know what you like, so we sort of went with a bit of everything.” Junhui looked inside and laughed in delight. In there, waiting for him were a croissant, an apple strudel, a chocolate muffin, and a little bottle of milk.

“Thank you!” Not hesitating, he grabbed the first pastry and munched heartily. After swallowing, he asked, “So where’s our first stop?”

“From our cursory tour this morning,” Wonwoo replied, “there’s a few popular shops three blocks head. While there, try to ask around for clues that could help us with the riddle. Here’s some money.” He handed Junhui and his cousin each a small pouch.

“Where do we go once we’re finished buying clothes?” Junhui wondered.

“Chan and I will come pick you up. If you’re done before us, just hang around the shop and tell them you’re waiting for your attendants.”

“Are you going to show up in a horse carriage?” Junhui giggled.

Wonwoo smiled. “That might be a bit too conspicuous.”

“Really?” Chan sounded disappointed. “I think it’d have been fine to play up the roles a bit.”

“We want to avert people’s suspicious, not attract more,” Wonwoo reminded him gently.

“I guess.”

By the time Junhui finished all the pastries and the bottle of milk, they arrived at the first shop. He wished Chan good luck, then crossed the street with Wonwoo toward the ladies boutique. Now it was Wonwoo to wish him good luck.

Staring through the display windows at the sea of dresses, he asked apprehensively, “What if I drown in there?”

Wonwoo replied confidently, “Then I’ll dive in and save you.”

“You don’t even like water,” Junhui retorted with a laugh.

Smirking, Wonwoo flicked the rim of his hat just enough to meet Junhui’s gaze. His eyes flashed green. “Anything for a beautiful damsel in distress. That’s the first rule in Prince School.”

Junhui’s cheeks burned, and he shooed him away frantically. “I’m sorry I asked.”

Laughing, Wonwoo turned and went to another store a few doors down.

The inside of the boutique was even more intimidating than the outside. Junhui gulped. He was definitely going to be lost in a sea of satin, cotton, cashmere, chiffon, lace, silk, and who knew what else. How was he supposed to know what kind of ‘look’ to go for? Would he really have to put on a hoop skirt? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk in one of those…

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“Ack!” Junhui jumped, nearly falling into the dress forms lining the wall. “Oh, hello!”

Whom he assumed to be a tailor—seeing as he wore a pin cushion on his wrist, and a tape measurer hung from his neck—reached out to steady him. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he grinned, canines flashing. What a tall man. And very fashionable, too. Even if Junhui had no clue when it came to Ashberry fashion, the tailor’s suit had embedded gems, and the thread glittered in the light like gold.

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just little lost in thought. Umm…” Well, maybe he’ll just come out and ask a professional. “I do need help. You see, I’m trying to buy my sister a few dresses as a gift, but I’m afraid I’ve gotten in over my head.”

The tailor laughed. “My name is Mingyu, and I’ll be happy to help. Would you happen to know her measurements?”

“Ah…” Junhui scratched the back of his head, feigning embarrassment. “Actually, I was hoping to purchase some off the rack. The party is tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I see. Hm.” Mingyu thought for a second. “We do have quite a lot of selections, but I’m afraid that without knowing her measurements, it’ll be a little difficult to determine which ones to buy.”

“Oh, we’re twins!” Junhui said quickly. “Identical twins.”

“Then it’s perfect! If you don’t mind trying on the dresses yourself, we’ll get you settled right away!”

“Right.” Junhui did not think ahead. Now he’ll probably be stuck rotating through dozens of dresses until he could find a couple that fit him. He should have asked Wonwoo for a shrinking potion, too.

After what felt like a whirlwind of colors and a hundred different types of fabrics, Mingyu narrowed down three dresses that fit him to a T (and none of them required a hoop skirt. _Yes!)_. Thank goodness for the young man’s professionalism. As he played dress up, he did remember to casually bring up the riddle, wondering if the young tailor had heard of anything even remotely close to it.

Unfortunately, Mingyu was no help. It seemed that the only subject matters he concerned himself with were his store and clientele, and his husband. Apparently, the latter worked as a painter somewhere nearby. Junhui could only hope that Wonwoo and Chan had better luck than him.

By the time Mingyu released him, it was past lunch, but the streets were still full of people. He wondered how far along Chan and Wonwoo were with picking their clothes. They should be done soon, right? As he waited on a bench outside the shop, he spotted a familiar hat afloat in the sea of people. _Chan!_

Junhui stood up and waved his arm, trying to get the younger’s attention without blowing their cover, but Chan didn’t see him. The boy kept his face lowered, but he looked right and left, as though searching for something. Wonwoo must have told him to get Junhui, but he couldn’t determine which store the older had gone in. Before Junhui could cross the street to catch up with him, he turned the corner.

Junhui grabbed his bag, almost tripping over the uneven cobblestones, and jumped into the busy foot traffic. Thanks to his height, he spotted Chan a short distance away, briskly walking. Junhui hurried his pace, wishing he could call out to him. Wishing, for the second time, that cellphones existed in this realm. Wishful thinking that Junhui didn’t have the time for. Shaking his head, he pushed himself through the sea of people.

Even though Junhui had height on his side, he had always been a little meek when it came to confrontations, which might explain why it took him so much effort to bypass the crowd. Plus, he couldn’t make too much of a fuss, or the townspeople will notice him. The less of an impact he made on people, the better.

Up ahead came a farmer’s market. _Oh, no!_ He had to make it through quickly or he’ll lose sight of Chan for good.

By some miracle, Chan stopped for a second, checking left and right again. Junhui could have cried in happiness. He excused himself and carefully maneuvered through the busy market place. A sudden gap opened, and Junhui sprinted for it. Right as he did, a cart came rushing at him.

Junhui stopped right on time, his face mere inches from the side of the wooden vehicle carrying hay.

“Watch where you’re going, brat! Who runs headfirst into oncoming traffic, huh?” the driver yelled at him. “Did you want to get trampled on?”

Head spinning and limbs shaking from the rush of adrenaline, Junhui could only bow several times, apologies falling from his lips. By the time he regained his senses, Chan had disappeared. Junhui stood in the middle of the street, with hundreds of people milling about. Trying to remain calm, he managed to scramble to a somewhat empty corner and breathe.

Alright, he told himself, he just had to retrace his steps back to Mingyu’s store. Once there, Wonwoo would find him and—

Finally taking inventory of his location, he realized that nothing looked familiar.The streets didn’t have names, and the shops had turned into houses. He was lost. How was he going to get back _there_ if he had no idea where _here_ was? As far he could remember, he hadn’t passed by any landmark or distinguishable buildings, either.

Bottom line: Junhui was dead. What the heck was he going to do?

_Think positive, Jun!_ All he had to do was walk backward, right? At some point, he’ll have to see something familiar.

With that notion in mind, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves (as calm as they could get) and pushed forward back up the hill he had come from. He really should have paid more attention to where he was going, but at the time, he’d been so preoccupied with catching up to Chan that he had disregarded everything else. If he ever made it through this, he’ll make sure to take mental pictures of everything.

As he wandered the streets, his mind kept trying to find connections, trying to persuade him that he had seen this or that before. With so much doubt, he really couldn’t tell left from right anymore.

Then an idea struck. Shopping bags had the store name and logo, right? He could show it to someone and ask them how to get there. Hope revitalized his spirits, and he pulled the bag up. Only to face utter disappointment. No brand on the bag, and no tags on the dresses. Wonderful.

Three hours and some minutes later, he was still roaming the streets of Ashberry. His feet were sore, his tummy growled, his heart ached. As if getting lost in a huge town wasn’t enough, he had spotted a few patrolling guards, too. He had no idea if they knew who he was, but he still slid inside bakeries and bookstores until they passed, anyway. As such, his quest to return to the boutique proved even more challenging.

Desperate as he was, he even considered talking to people and ask for directions, but that only led him to some empty alley, where he almost got mugged by ruffians. He had no idea if the person he talked to gave him bad directions, or if Junhui went off-course out of his own ineptitude.

_Arg! If only cellphones existed in this realm!_

The day was coming to an end soon, and Junhui still walked aimlessly, confused and afraid. After passing by the small antique shop with the sleeping cat napping out front more than twice, he had to admit defeat. The chances of finding Wonwoo and Chan in this town were impossible. He couldn’t even walk through the town without going in circles.

Out of energy, he dropped down onto the paved street, leaning against the wall of the antique shop. Then he closed his eyes. Completely exhausted.

The sun rays were pleasant on his face, warming him as the cooler wind from the river blew in. It was so nice just sitting there, with his eyes closed, ignoring the problem for a while, believing everything would be all right. He allowed himself the small reprieve, even if he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t continue like this. He had to come up with a better plan.

Another breeze blew overheard, ruffling his hair. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. His fingers came into contact with a metallic chain. Keeping his eyes closed, he trailed his fingers down to the smooth pendant around his neck.

Wonwoo.

Junhui opened his eyes and stared at the darkening sky, his fingers gripped around the stone. Wonwoo must be worried sick. Junhui was supposed to offer him help, not cause even more problems. Sighing, he dropped his head. Once he regained his energy, he’ll try to find his way to the inn from last night. Maybe Wonwoo would look there for him, too.

The clicking of a door opening pulled Junhui out of his musings. He looked over to see a boy with golden hair exiting the antique shop holding a broom. He couldn’t have much younger than Junhui, probably around Chan’s age.

When he spotted Junhui sitting there, his brown eyes turned round with surprise. “Oh! Hello!” the boy greeted, putting the broom to one side. His voice was deep and warm. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Seeing his friendly disposition, Junhui couldn’t help but smile back. “Hi. I’m okay, I’m just resting my feet.” He pointed to his shoes and wiggled them. “I’ve been walking all day.”

“Oh, well, do you want to go inside?” He pointed to the half-opened door. “We have tea and juice.”

Junhui shook his head and smiled. “No, thank you. I need to find my...” Oh, geez. _Make your lie convincing, Jun!_ “I’m looking for my brother, but I got lost.”

The boy seemed to think for a minute, a small crease forming between his brows. “You must be coming from out of town, I assume.”

“Yes, but I doubt you would know where that is,” Junhui laughed nervously. Fortunately, the other boy didn’t pick up on it.

“Hmm.” He seemed to debate something with himself, cupping his chin as he thought. “Do you have a place to stay for tonight?” he asked.

_What to do? What to do? What to do?_

“Err… Not really.” Junhui winced. “I thought that I’d have found my brother by now, so I didn’t plan ahead.” Pushing himself to his feet, he dusted himself off. “But could I trouble you a little? Can you tell me the way to get to the inn that stays open all night?”

The boy grimaced. “Would you like to stay with us for the night instead? The inn you’re talking about is more than five miles away, and I’m afraid that night would have fallen before you could reach it.”

“But I…” Junhui hesitated, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“It’s really not safe once the sun sets,” he added. “Plus, you’re by yourself.”

If Junhui were to decline, it would look too suspicious. On the other hand, he couldn’t help consider the chances—however small—that the kid could be a spy for Warwick.

“I promise my brother and I are good people!” the boy said, as if to reassure Junhui. “We’re not going to rob you or anything!”

He sounded so sincere, and his eyes really contained nothing but pure kindness, that Junhui laughed.

“Okay, if you’ll please have me.” Junhui bowed.

The boy beamed, his gummy smile all square and adorable. “Awesome! I’m Chwe Hansol!” He put his hand out.

Laughing again, Junhui took it. “Nice to meet you. I’m Moon Jun.” He really hoped this wasn’t a mistake, that his trust in Hansol wasn’t misplaced.

Hansol didn’t notice the small panic attack, his smile still as friendly. “Welcome to Ashberry, Jun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* oh, junnie... but hey, on the other hand HELLO HANSOL!!!!! ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾ and a quick MG guest appearance 😂
> 
> i hope you guys don't get annoyed with (me) wonhui for arguing AGAIN, but i mean... it's kinda necessary... 😅 at least now we know more about why wonu shuts everyone out. 
> 
> poor channie though :( but he is ok now! yay!!! 
> 
> i hope you have enjoyed the read! i'll post ch. 9 on friday :D thank you very much for reading!  
> xoxoxo


	9. Lovely Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun stays at Hansol's house and meets his brother. He also finds a way to talk to Wonwoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! hope you're doing well!
> 
> so we're gonna get the answer to that riddle in this chapter, so last chance to solve it by yourself! haha. 
> 
> we're also gonna see another SVT member, woot woot!
> 
> anyway, i hope you'll like the chapter! it's very long... 😂
> 
> -

Hansol showed Junhui around the antique shop. Apparently, he and his older brother lived on the top floor, and they managed the shop during the day. Most of the time, though, Hansol had to take care of business on his own, since his brother traveled to meet with clients a lot.

“You’re very trusting,” Junhui remarked as he followed the boy around. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll knock you out and rob you?”

Instead of being cautious, Hansol laughed. “That’s what my brother says all the time. Not about knocking me out and robbing me,” he clarified, prompting Junhui to chuckle.

“I get it.”

“Oh. Well, anyway. I’m getting good vibes from you,” he said simply.

In order to stall and avoid having to talk about himself, Junhui went on to ask him questions, which Hansol answered without a second thought. 

His mother passed away when Hansol was ten, and their father remarried a handful of years later, leaving Hansol and his brother the shop to feed themselves. Hansol was very bright and cheery, yet calm and collected at the same time. Despite the storm raging in Junhui’s head, spending time with him actually helped settle his nerves a little bit.

“So what about you, Jun?” Hansol asked as they returned to the living room. He went to the side table to grab a pitcher of lemonade and an extra glass. “Where do you come from?”

Instead of answering, Junhui gulped down the entire glass of lemonade. Now that it was closing time, there was no chance of a customer swooping in to save Junhui with a well-time interruption.

“Well…” He shifted in his seat, putting the bag of dresses on the ground. At least Hansol hadn’t been nosy about its contents. “It’s a town called Wildflower Grove, and it’s really really really far from here,” he said with a nervous laugh. “It took me almost half a week to get here.”

“Wow!” Hansol refilled his glass. “And you travelled all by yourself, too. That’s,” he nodded pensively. “That’s admirable. I’ve never even gone outside of town. You must have really wanted to see your brother.”

A small pinch to his chest made him grimace, but he masked it by sipping at the lemonade. He really hoped Wonwoo and Chan were okay, wherever they may be. “Yes, I heard that he was sick, and so no matter what, I had to go and see him.”

Hansol sighed sympathetically. “Hm. Do you have his address or something? I could help you get there,” he offered.

Hansol’s sincerity and genuine kindness pricked at Junhui’s skin like a thousand needles. He felt horrible lying to him. “Thank you, Hansol, but I left in such a hurry, I forgot to bring the letter in which he wrote down his address.”

“Ahh…” He nodded. “So that’s why you spent the whole day walking around.”

“Yeah…”

The clock struck the hour, and Hansol glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve still got a couple hours before dinner. Come on, I’ll show you to your room. You should rest up.”

Junhui stood up and stretched. “Thank you.” Grabbing his things, he followed the young man upstairs.

Once Hansol gave him a small tour, he headed for his own room down the hall. Junhui entered the bathroom connected to the guest quarters and locked the door behind him. He leaned against the wood, taking in several breaths, then slid down onto the tiled floor. He hugged his head in his hands. Without Hansol’s calming aura around him anymore, the consequences of the day’s events crashed on top of him.

His emotions tangled up in a giant knot, and he couldn’t see any way to sort them out. Just like how he couldn’t possibly see a way to get out of this mess. He was alone, in an unfamiliar place, powerless and helpless. The fear for Wonwoo and Chan’s safety and the uncertainty of what would happen to them all paralyzed him.

Although he should have expected the future to be unexpected, it had never been just a blank map. He may not have always known what to do or where to go, but at least he used to have a general direction to pursue. Now there really was no telling what would befall him in the near future, something he had come to realize came as a consequence of entwining his fate with Wonwoo’s.

“Jihoon, you’re back! I was starting to get worried.”

“I’m sorry, Hansol. The last stop took longer than I intended it to.”

As Junhui opened his eyes, he heard Hansol’s voice conversing with someone else downstairs, probably the older brother. Quickly, he pushed himself off of the bathroom floor and went over to the sink to wash his face.

Waking up so abruptly was a little disorienting, but he managed to regain his senses thanks to the cold water. He could somewhat make out parts of the conversation downstairs, some words more muffled than others, but he gathered that the topic centered around dinner and food. He determined that his nap must not have lasted very long. 

When Junhui looked into the mirror, the first thing he saw was the stone dangling from his neck. The vibrant swirls set against the shimmering blue tone reminded him of Wonwoo’s eyes on the night he had put it around Junhui’s neck. The color of genuine happiness and excitement.

His heart squeezed, and Junhui closed his fingers around the stone. “Please, be okay,” he wished.

Bracing his hands on the rim of the sink, he shook his head. He could make a thousand wishes, but unless he met a genie willing to grant a single one of them, nothing will get done. Wonwoo and Chan were out there somewhere. Junhui couldn’t stay here. What if they were in danger right now? He had to find a way to sneak out.

He walked to the small window and looked through it. At this height, he’d break more than one bone if he were to jump. He’ll have to sneak out from the first floor, maybe through the back door.

Hansol’s voice drifted through the house, interrupting his plotting. “He’s upstairs, probably resting.”

They must be talking about him, Junhui thought, straining his ears to hear. Unfortunately, whatever followed was too low. Hansol’s voice sounded clearly enough, though.

“No, he’s not a suspicious person! I can tell. Just wait until dinner and you’ll see what I mean.”

Junhui needed to take his chances now. With that in mind, he pressed his ear to the door of the bedroom. Upon hearing no footsteps or conversation, he cracked the door open and peeped into the hallway. No signs of anyone. He widened the gap and slid out, furtively running down the stairs and heading straight for the back of the house.

Out of curiosity, he peeked into the doorway of the living room as he ran past it. A man sat at the table he and Hansol had occupied earlier, writing something in a notebook. He had light colored hair and seemed muscular, despite having a shorter stature than his brother. Junhui couldn’t see much else, though, since the man had his back to the doorway. At any case, he needed to remember which door led outside, so he turned his attention away from the man.

A painting of sunflowers jogged his memory. The kitchen with the back door was just around that corner. Reenergized, he took off. Only to halt in his track after he ran in.

Yes, he found the kitchen. He also nearly crashed into Hansol.

“Whoa!”

“Ah!”

“I’m sorry!” Junhui grabbed him by the arms to keep the younger from falling over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he laughed, straightening out. “What about you? What’s the rush?” Snickering a little, he asked, “Were you that hungry?”

Now that he no longer worried over accidentally hurting Hansol, he panicked a little. “I, uh…” He glimpsed at the table behind Hansol, where three sets of utensils and dishware had already been set aside, along with a few containers of food. On the stove, a soup seemed to be simmering. “I was just… Do you need help with anything?”

Hansol blinked, a little surprised, but otherwise completely oblivious to his guest’s fidgeting fingers and nervous laughter. “Oh, you really don’t have to. Jihoon bought some food on the way, and we’re just waiting for the soup to heat up.”

“It wouldn’t feel right,” Junhui insisted. Seeing as his plan ran into a little temporary obstacle, he might as well show Hansol that he was grateful for the kindness and hospitality.

“If you’re offering, then thanks!” Hansol laughed, gummy smile as endearing as ever.

After a few minutes, the pair served the different dishes out into plates, and Hansol put them onto a large tray to bring to the dinner room. Junhui grabbed the utensils and bowls, then followed him out. As he did, he couldn’t help wondering if Wonwoo and Chan even had anything to eat tonight. He didn’t even know if they had a roof over their heads. Determined, he vowed that he’d sneak out to look for them as soon as he could.

“Jihoon!” Hansol called toward the living room. “Let’s eat!”

Entering the dinning room, Junhui made sure to keep his face lowered. He already had a small inkling that Hansol’s brother wasn’t very keen on having a stranger in his home. Junhui couldn’t blame him for being wary. Even though he was a little scared of the man’s reaction, he tried to stay positive. Maybe he’ll be asked to leave, in which case, he won’t have to sneak out of the house and risk hurting Hansol’s feelings.

With his eyes still downcast, Junhui quietly put down the three sets of utensils and bowls in front of each seat. Then he helped Hansol arrange the plates in the middle of the table.

“Ah,” the younger sighed happily as he breathed in the taste aroma. “Everything smells delicious!”

“Yes.”

At that moment, they heard footsteps entering the room. Hansol turned around. “Oh, yeah. Let me introduce you.”

Despite Junhui’s earlier bravado, he still folded onto himself and sheepishly hid behind Hansol. He heard the older brother sigh softly.

“Hansol—”

Ignoring him, Hansol scooted aside a little. “Moon Jun, this is my brother. Lee Jihoon—he goes by our mother’s maiden name. So?” he addressed the other man. “Do you still think he looks like a bad guy?”

Jihoon offered no response. Junhui felt his stomach twist a little at the heavy silence. To make matters worse, he could feel the man staring at him intently, as if he were a specimen under a microscope. Being careful was always a good habit, but this felt different. Junhui couldn’t put his finger on it, so he decided to take a quick look at the owner of the house, too.

Timidly, he lifted his gaze. Well, his first sight of him proved correct, he decided. What Lee Jihoon didn’t have in height, he made up in his imposing aura. He was very handsome, even if right now he wore a hard expression, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his guest. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Moon Jun,” he eventually said. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

That was surprising, to say the least. Junhui blinked, a little lost for words. “T-thank you,” he quickly replied, bowing. “I’ll be sure not to trouble you.”

“Mm.” Jihoon glanced at Hansol and motioned toward the table. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

“Yes!” Hansol agreed readily.

Dinner turned out to be actually lively. Junhui had expected Jihoon to be a man of few words with a cold demeanor, but instead, he talked with his brother quite a lot. He even laughed a few times. It completely changed his appearance, and Junhui found himself gaping for a few seconds, before hiding behind his glass of water. At any rate, he was happy to listen to the brothers talking about this and that. It helped distract him from his troubles.

“You don’t like white rice?” Hansol asked, nudging Junhui’s elbow.

“Huh?” His eyes immediately flickered to the untouched bow, and he felt a little embarrassed. Not wanting to seem rude, he tried to salvage the situation. “Ah, no, it’s uh—I mean—” _Great job, Jun._

“I’ll eat it if you don’t,” Jihoon said in an even voice. He extended his hand out for the bowl.

Sheepishly, Junhui handed it to him. “T-thank you,” he mumbled.

“This is the first time someone’s thanked me for eating their food,” Jihoon replied with a small grin. Before Junhui could relax at seeing the friendlier expression, Jihoon paused, eyes resting on the hand that held out the bowl of rice. “Are you engaged?”

The blood drained from Junhui’s face, then surged at full force onto his cheeks. He knew exactly why Jihoon would come to that conclusion. Wonwoo’s ring never moved from Junhui’s fourth finger, appearing too much like an engagement ring. As he took his eyes off the silver band, he found Jihoon staring at it with a slight frown, brows pinched together. Something in that expression froze Junhui’s thoughts, and he found himself unable to respond.

Fortunately, Hansol came to the rescue.

“Oh, wow! I didn’t even notice!” He laughed, successfully dispersing the strange atmosphere.

Taking the chance to correct the misconception, Junhui retrieved his hand and rolled the ring around his finger. “No, umm... It’s just a good luck charm from a very good friend. I tend to to get myself into trouble a lot, so he thought it’d help.” The irony of his words did not escape him.

However, Hansol interjected, “It works, though! Since I found you,” he chuckled.

Junhui smiled in return, nodding in agreement. “Yeah. I was fortunate.”

On the other end of the table, Jihoon didn’t comment. He picked up the bowl and flipped the mass of rice inside, turning it upside down. It was rather impressive. They continued to eat, the topic of Wonwoo’s ring forgotten.

After cleaning up dinner, Junhui believed that he would get a chance to slip away. He expected everyone to retire to their room, giving him the opportunity to leave through the back door. Unfortunately, the brothers relocated to the living room to read and relax by the fireplace.

“I know you must be tired,” Hansol said, “But you’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Junhui couldn’t decline. Mainly because he genuinely liked the younger boy, but also because it would give him a reason to be downstairs. The moment the other two went to bed, he’d move into action. As such, he took a seat on the carpet and leaned against the armchair.

Pulling his knees to his chest, he hid the riddle book and studied it. He tried to take notes, even going so far as searching through the house’s extensive library for artifacts or locations that matched with the clues, but no success. Since Hansol and Jihoon both looked too busy, he didn’t dare interrupt them. Plus, he was a little apprehensive. He’d had no qualms about getting Mingyu’s opinion because he had been a strange that Junhui wouldn’t see again.

However, he considered Hansol somewhat of a friend now, and he was pretty sure the younger saw him similarly. If he were to ask Hansol, it would undoubtedly lead to more questions, and that just seemed like skirting around trouble. He’d rather pass.

With a soft sigh, he stretched his neck and arms. The ring caught the reflection of the fire, and he pulled it toward him. Ever since Wonwoo let him borrow it, he hadn’t actually had the chance to really look at it. He spun it around his finger, thinking of Wonwoo again. Suddenly, a blindingly bright flash exploded right in front of him. He screwed his eyes shut on instinct, flinching away.

When he reopened them, his entire view was white. He sucked in a breath to scream for help, but the fog began to clear. When he moved, he felt something under his fingertips—a plush carpet. As disorienting as he felt and as crazy as it sounded, he might actually still be sitting in Hansol’s living room. If he concentrated intently enough, he could sense the faint heat emanating from the fireplace a short distance away and smell the tea on the table. So this—whatever hid behind the thawing fog—was some sort of vision?

He got his answer the second he set his eyes on Wonwoo.

His heart leapt. It took all of his self-control to remain seated and quiet as he continued to observe. He didn’t recognize the setting. Wonwoo stood outside, in front of some sort of monument, at night. Some street lamps nearby provided barely enough light for him to be seen in the dark. Upon closer inspection, Junhui realized that he monument was in actuality a very large fountain. Pushing up from the ground, its center piece was two or three stems of ruffled tulips, their petals meticulously carved from stone. Jets of water flowed elegantly from the very top.

Wonwoo leaned over the edge of the base, seemingly searching for something in the water. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he took several steps back and studied the fountain as a whole. As he stood there, deep in thoughts, he cracked his knuckles absently, then felt around for his ring, idly spinning it around his finger.

The vision had no sound, so Junhui could only detect that something happened when Wonwoo flinched and whipped his head around. He dropped his hands in order todig into his pocket for something. The vision began to fade, and Junhui panicked.

_No no no! Not yet!_ He gripped onto his knees, willing the connection not to sever.

Whatever caused Wonwoo to flinch earlier prompted him to hurry. Junhui couldn’t tell what he was holding. He squinted, looking as closely as he could. Suddenly, Wonwoo’s head lifted, and Junhui halted, an icy jolt running down his spine. As improbable as it were, it looked like Wonwoo stared right at him, the same way a model or actor stared right into the camera lens.

Junhui barely had time to understand what it could mean. Wonwoo broke eye contact and turned back to the fountain. He threw the item in his hand into the stone flower. The vision blurred. The fog rolled in, and before too long, Junhui’s entire sight was as white as snow.

He rubbed at his eyes, and when he opened them, he saw the bookcases and fireplace of the antique shop once again.

Hansol’s face filled his vision. “Jun? Are you all right?”

The older jumped. “Oh, yes!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly, seeing as Jihoon glanced up from his notebook to give him a curious look. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m fine, why?”

Hansol still seemed unsure even as he sat down next to him. “I don’t know, you were spacing out, and you weren’t blinking.”

“Oh,” Junhui feigned a laugh, grabbing his knees to rock back and forth. “Maybe I fell asleep for a bit.”

“With your eyes open?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, more genuine this time. “I sleep with my eyes open.”

Hansol made an unreadable face, then burst out laughing. “That is so cool! I wish I could do that.”

Junhui let out a relieved sigh in his head. Thank goodness Hansol was such a good and pure child, one who could be easily distracted.

After his little feat was forgotten by the other two people in the room, he reopened the riddle book. This little book was another reason he had to find Wonwoo and Chan. How would they be able to continue on the quest without knowing the rest of the riddles? Junhui turned to the correct page and read through the one that currently had them stumped. Sure enough, it mentioned a fountain. So was Wonwoo trying to collect clues by going to every cite mentioned? Although that was hardly the usual way to solve a riddle, maybe that was how it worked here. Whatever the case may be, Wonwoo had left something at that fountain for Junhui to pick up.

While he mused over how to get there, Jihoon picked up his things and headed for bed. Before he did, he instructed Hansol on some shop matters for the following day. Junhui didn’t pay the conversation any attention.

“Goodnight,” Jihoon said to both of them as he headed for the stairs.

“Goodnight!”

A couple minutes, once he was sure that Jihoon wouldn’t be able to overhear them, he scooted closer to Hansol’s spot.

“Hansol, do you know if there’s a giant water fountain that looks like a bouquet of flowers around here?”

Taken a little bit surprise by the question, Hansol blinked. “Uh, yeah. It’s a few blocks away from here, why?”

Joy and relief flooded his system, and he could have cried in joy. “Really? It’s that close? Can you get there on foot?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

That was enough to convince him. With any chance, Wonwoo might even still be there. Everything could go back to normal; it would be as though Junhui had never gotten lost in the first place. He pushed himself to his feet, ready to fly there.

Hansol’s grasp around his arm stopped him abruptly. “Wait!” He seemed… scared. “You can’t go now.”

“Why not? You said it was really close.” Junhui didn’t understand why the notion frightened him so.

“Curfew was an hour ago,” he explained.

“Curfew?” Junhui repeated, making sure he heard him correctly. His eyes flickered to the second floor. “Jihoon gives you a curfew?”

Hansol shook his head vigorously. “No! Lately, Ashberry has gotten a few new regulations, one of them being enforced curfews. They have been very strict about who is allowed outside at night. Unless it’s someone arriving from out of town, no one is supposed to be out after 9 o’clock.”

Junhui stared at him with round eyes, lost for words.

“King Warwick says there’s a group of criminals on the loose, but he’s reassured everyone that he’s got guards patrolling the neighborhoods to keep us safe. Still, he’s asking us to remain inside so that innocent people don’t get hurt on accident.”

Now everything made sense. That scum. This was the reason why the streets were completely deserted last night when they arrived. By keeping his citizens indoors, he would make it easier for his guards to find and capture Wonwoo without any witnesses. By some miracle, their little group had managed to pass detection. Maybe Wonwoo had taken a route contrary to what the soldiers expected.

He thought back to the inn keeper. Had the man not been so lazy and inattentive, they might have been caught, too. Perhaps that had more to do with Wonwoo’s foresight in hiding in the shadows and never showing his face. As far as the inn keeper was concerned, he spoke to a redheaded girl. Junhui had to admit, however unpleasant it was, that Warwick came up with a good strategy to capture his prey. Leaving only one inn open 24/7, it would increase the chances of Wonwoo venturing into the trap. The only oversight resided with the inn keeper. A competent person would have reported the arrival of guests after curfew, regardless of their appearances. 

“So we’re not allowed to go anywhere until tomorrow?” Junhui asked, already looking forward to morning.

Hansol nodded. “Right. But if you want, I can take you to the fountain tomorrow!”

“Really?” Junhui grinned. “That would be wonderful!” Finally, things were looking up.

Despite being happy and grateful for the help, Junhui couldn’t help but fret, anyway. He would be safe tonight, but what about Wonwoo and Chan? If the vision he saw was in real time, then Wonwoo could still be out there. Did he already find out about the curfew rules? Helpless, Junhui picked at his bottom lip. He still wanted to try to find them, but he knew better.

He recalled Wonwoo scolding him in the woods, “ _If Chan and I had run into trouble, I still have my magic, and Chan is resourceful enough to escape. You are completely powerless and naive. How do you think you’d manage to get out of trouble, hm?”_

Now Junhui could only hope that Wonwoo’s confidence held true.

Hansol yawned, pulling him out of his thoughts. Considering it a sign to end the day, the boys headed for bed.

That night, Junhui dreamed of the same vision over and over again. In the dream, he was able to see a bit more clearly. Wonwoo definitely threw something in the fountain for Junhui to find. Whatever it was, it was the only connection Junhui had with Wonwoo for now.

*  ･ﾟﾟ･ *  ✿ ⋆ :°*  ❀ *  ･ﾟﾟ･ *

The day started out less than ideally. Apparently, the task that Jihoon left for Hansol to do today involved meeting with a very important client. The man wanted to come take a look at a good number of antique pieces. That by itself shouldn’t have caused any issues. While Junhui was impatient about getting to the fountain, he also didn’t want to impose and make things difficult for Hansol. So he waited with the younger for the arrival of the important customer, the two of them playing checkers and cards to pass the time. Hansol would excuse himself to help out visitors every so often, but for the most part, the boys just sat around and played together.

“Where is this man?” Hansol hissed as he went to the door. “Why can’t people be punctual?”

Junhui sighed, resting his cheek on a fist. He glanced at the clock. The man was three hours late. “Is there no way to contact him?”

“I already sent a message to his house in the morning,” Hansol said, shaking his head. “Sorry about this, Jun. I know you wanted to go to the fountain.”

“No, please. It’s not your fault. Work comes first.”

“Yeah, but if he came when he said he would, we could have taken a break and gone! If he doesn’t show up in half an hour, we’re going anyway.”

“Won’t your brother get angry?”

“No. Jihoon hates people who can’t keep their word.”

Twenty minutes later, the customer in question walked in. For a second, Junhui wondered if he would request for a red carpet to be rolled out for him. Junhui had seen his fair share of snooty people, having worked in the food industry, but this man came out as number one. Hansol deserved a medal for being so polite to him for the entire hour it took the meeting.

In the end, the universe rewarded him well. He managed to sell almost half of the shop’s inventory.

The door closed with a resounding thud, and Hansol raised his arms in the air, shouting in victory, “At last! We’re free!”

Junhui laughed, patting his shoulder. “I can’t believe you got him to buy so many pieces.”

Hansol winked, grinning widely. “I’m a professional!”

“Yes!” Junhui agreed.

“Okay, let me just input all of these, and we can go.” He waved the stack of receipts in the air and walked to the desk, looking through the drawers.

“What are you looking for?” Junhui came over, seeing if he could help.

“The main accounting book.” Hansol stood up, tapping a finger on his chin. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought. After a few seconds, he snapped his fingers. “Jihoon was looking at it yesterday. It must still be in his studies. I’ll be right back!”

With that, Hansol turned around to go upstairs; however, the front door opened, jingling the little bell. A man holding a clipboard and a pen entered, looking for him. Hansol sighed and climbed back down the few steps he took.

“Hello, I’ll be right with you,” he gestured to the delivery man. “Jun, can you go and grab me the book? It’s blue with a pink ribbon.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks!”

In the hall upstairs, Junhui stood outside of Jihoon’s office door a few moments longer than necessary. He hadn’t thought about it when he agreed, but now he felt a little hesitant. While he considered Hansol a friend, he didn’t know much about Jihoon. Was it okay for him to go into his office without permission? At best, Jihoon tolerated him out of politeness. At worst, Jihoon found him suspicious. Not to mention the odd way with which he looked at him. Junhui couldn’t detect any animosity, but it didn’t radiate warmth, either. The last thing he wanted was to anger Jihoon, especially not now, when he was so close to picking up Wonwoo’s trail.

Insides quivering, Junhui took in a deep breath and reached for the door handle. Jihoon had left the house earlier. If Junhui didn’t touch anything but the notebook, he wouldn’t get mad, right? Especially when Junhui only did what Hansol asked. With a small nod to himself, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Neat. Clean. Organized. Those words popped out at him as Junhui took a cursory look at the small office. Dark drapes were pulled almost to a close over the windows, leaving the room in faint shadows. There were candles and a lantern, but since sunlight filtered through the curtains, Junhui didn’t have to mess around with matches in order to walk around. A few cabinets lined the blank walls, and two large bookcases were placed behind the ebony desk.

From the cursory inspection, there was no sign of a blue book with pink ribbon on the nearby shelves. Junhui took a few strides to the desk, seeing neat piles of papers and notebooks. But no blue and pink. Maybe Jihoon stuffed in a drawer, he inferred. Bending down, he tried the various drawers, opening them one by one. Most of them contained stacks of loose paper. With it being so dim, he couldn’t quite see the contents of the drawers toward the bottom.

Junhui lifted a corner of the curtains, letting a stream of sunlight in. _Much better_. Resuming his crouched position, he carefully rummaged through. He was surprised when he discovered a lot of sheet music. _A lot_. Some were neatly filled in, most had sections crossed-off. He didn’t know Jihoon was a musician. Even more curious, why did it feel like he was hiding these pieces? Shaking his head, Junhui quickly put everything back in place. Jihoon must have his reasons. Junhui shouldn’t snoop. He had to find the notebook.

Standing up, he turned to the bookshelf closest to him. Most of the spines were blank, but a few were on the topic of music. Odd. As he skipped over those, he kept his eyes peeled for blue and pink. Jihoon had a few picture frames decorating the shelves. Junhui giggled at the ones with a tiny Hansol. After a few seconds looking at the baby pictures, he had to force himself to stay on track, pulling his gaze away from the photos to continue searching. At last, tucked on the very end next to a large dictionary, he spotted the pink ribbon. _Ah ha!_

Once he gingerly pulled it out, he cast a glance at the shelf, making sure he hadn’t moved anything out of place. His eyes lingered over the frames again, and he laughed to himself quietly, thinking about teasing Hansol about them. As he turned to go, one picture caught his interest. Unlike the pictures of Hansol and whom Junhui assumed were their parents, this frame was turned halfway into the shelf, as if to hide the picture inside. Even so, Junhui saw enough to make his eyes turn round. He gaped at it, tentatively picking it up. At that moment, he didn’t think about invading Jihoon’s privacy, or even considered the object’s fragility. No, because his mind was completely overwhelmed by the person in the picture.

It was like staring into a mirror. Were it not for the different clothes and gender, Junhui would have believed that Jihoon kept a mirror in a picture frame. The girl wore a dress similar to the ones Mingyu picked out for him, and her hair was red, too, but much longer than he’d ever grown it. His mind wandered as his eyes remained glued to the frame, staring at his own face. Who was this girl? How was she connected to Jihoon? Could this be the reason why he had acted so strangely when they had met? Junhui couldn’t blame him.

So absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind him. Not until Jihoon’s voice cut through the silence that he gasped and whirled around.

“Jun? What are you doing here?”

“Jihoon!” he exclaimed, scrambling to not drop the picture frame and notebook still in his grasp. “I’m sorry, I, uh…” Hands trembling, he set the frame back on the shelf and backed away. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t… Hansol asked me to bring him the accounting book,” he waved the item in the air, lowering his head in shame for having been caught snooping. “I didn’t mean to look through your things. The picture just took me by surprise…”

Jihoon didn’t speak for what felt like a really long moment. Eventually, he sighed. “I’m not angry, Jun,” he said. “Seeing your doppelgänger would shock anyone.”

“Even so, I’m sorry.”

“Mm.”

Junhui looked through his lashes to see Jihoon pick up the frame and stare at the girl, gaze tender and so… sad. At last, Junhui realized all the looks Jihoon threw his way weren’t out of suspicion or distrust. It was disbelief and… melancholy?

“When I first saw you, I thought she had returned,” Jihoon let out a dry laugh. “Even if it’s impossible.”

Junhui stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, fingers smoothing along the silky ribbon of the notebook. He didn’t know what to say. He felt like his very existence was the cause of Jihoon’s turmoil. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask more about his lookalike, despite how curious he was.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Showing him a small smile, Jihoon shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re not at fault here.” Sighing, he put the picture back on the shelf. “We were engaged,” he revealed, prompting Junhui’s eyes to widen slightly. No wonder Jihoon had noticed the ring around Junhui’s finger. How cruel must it have been for this man to get a glimpse of his beloved, only to realize it wasn’t the same person.

“Last fall, she and her family took a trip to Pinwheel Glen. They encountered a large storm on the way, and they were lost at sea,” he continued evenly, as if already resigned to the pain of the tragedy.

Junhui stayed quiet for a second, watching his solemn expression, saddening him so much. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispered again.

Jihoon nodded once, then pulled out his chair to sit at the desk. His eyes flickered to Junhui’s hand, and his brows pinched together. “You said your… friend gave you that ring?”

“Huh?” Junhui startled a little, looking down at his own finger. “Y-yes.” Unsure what Jihoon was trying to say, he could only think of one thing as he hurried to say, “I swear it was given to me! I didn’t steal it!”

His outburst and rapid arm movements amused the other, apparently, as he actually laughed. As he did, his eyes curved up into upside crescents. He looked so much friendlier and cute, Junhui almost wanted to pat his head. He would probably not like it, though…

“I see,” Jihoon said, still smiling. “That’s good to know. You better take good care of it, then.”

“Uh, yes.” He was still rather confused, but before he could think too much, Hansol’s voice echoed through the open door.

“Jun? Did you find the notebook?”

“Oh!” He turned toward the doorway and raised his voice, “I did! I’ll be right down!” Looking back at Jihoon, he waved the notebook in question in the air. “I, uh, I’m going to give it to Hansol.”

Jihoon nodded, gesturing for him to go.

At the threshold, Junhui said, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for listening.”

Downstairs, Hansol got to work right away, zooming through the rows and columns. Junhui sat by his side, watching him work with mild interest, one hand fidgeting with a wooden cat figuring. Once Hansol finished, he shouted up the stairs at his brother.

“We’re going out for a walk, Jihoon!”

“Don’t get yourselves into trouble.”

Hansol laughed.

Waiting until after they left the shop, Junhui cautiously brought up the subject of his doppelgänger.

“You saw Heejin?” Hansol wondered, a little surprised. “Sorry, it must have been really weird for you. I kept wondering if I should have told you.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it was weird for everybody.”

“Yeah.” Hansol nodded. “She and Jihoon had gotten engaged for a little over a year, before she left for the competition in Pinwheel Glen.”

“Competition?”

“Piano. That’s how the two of them met, actually. But after Jihoon inherited the antique shop and took over as my guardian, he stopped participating. Instead, he composed songs for her to play at recitals. After the accident, he stopped touching music altogether.”

That explained all the hidden sheet music. Junhui kicked at a pebble, feelings complicated. Of course he was disheartened and sympathetic, but he also felt really guilty for inadvertently digging up all of these painful memories. Fate was so cruel for guiding Junhui to the antique shop.

“I have to admit,” Hansol said after a few seconds. “When I saw you sitting outside the shop, I thought I was hallucinating.” He laughed, but the sound was tinged with wistfulness.

“Is that why you decided to help me?” Junhui wondered. Hansol’s fervor at that time had seemed a little strange, and Junhui found him too reckless. But now it didn’t seem so strange.

“Well, partly? I always believe that I should help people in need, and you clearly were. You just also happened to look like Heejin, that’s all.”

“Weren’t you afraid that Jihoon might get upset?”

Hansol shrugged. “I think meeting you was a good way for him to start grieving properly. Heejin disappeared so abruptly, he never got to see her or say goodbye.”

“If I can help in any way, I’d be happy,” Junhui said. “At the very least, as a thank you for letting me stay in your house.”

Hansol chuckled. “Be careful what you say, or I might put you to work dusting all the pieces in inventory.”

Junhui laughed, too, the heavy feeling over his chest lifting.

The two of them continued to walk, and they arrived at the fountain shortly after.

“Look, there it is!” Hansol pointed forward, and Junhui glanced up.

Like a little kid, he’d been watching the uneven paved road, hopping on the slightly raised stones.

When he saw how incredible the fountain looked in person, a stab echoed in his chest. He was so close to finally finding Wonwoo and Chan, it was almost painful. He hadn’t expected for so many people to be around, though.

Most of them were children and teenagers, enjoying the warm weather by playing in the water and splashing each other. While the crowd was unexpected, maybe it would serve his purpose well. No one would think twice about him joining in, and he’d able to look for the thing that Wonwoo left for him. All he had to worry about was Hansol. Just then, he turned to his side, but Hansol had disappeared.

“Jun, come on!”

He sought the younger’s voice to see Hansol running toward the ledge of the fountain, pant legs rolled up and one shoe in each hand. Laughing, Junhui ran after him and followed his lead. By the time he got to there, Hansol had already jumped into the water, laughing loudly. Obviously, Junhui didn’t need to worry about him.

The water felt incredibly fresh on his warm skin, contrasting nicely with the heat of the sun. He waded through the water, trying his best to keep his clothes as dry as possible. His second change of clothes was in the backpacks that Wonwoo and Chan kept. All Junhui had were the dresses from Mingyu’s shop, and he really didn’t want to crossdress when Jihoon still grieved his fiancée.

A few near-falls later, he managed to find the spot where Wonwoo had stood in the vision. Gripping the stone sculpture to not slip, he climbed along the uneven ground toward the giant tulip. Wonwoo had tossed the item into one of the flowers. Because of the angle, he couldn’t look inside, so he just shoved his arm into the opening and felt around. Initially, he could only feel the cool and smooth stone, but after a bit of struggle, he reached the flower on the other side, and his fingertips came into contact with something like rubber. A rubber ball? Did racquetball exist in this realm?

He pulled it out anyway.

Much to his amazement, it was a bubble. Transparent and shinny, it had different swirls of colors like a soap bubble. But it was also sturdy and stretchy, perfect to hide a secret note. He shook it like one of those plastic eggs, making the folded piece of paper inside rattle. How was he supposed to get it out? He squished it, and _pop!_ The bubble disappeared into thin air, and the paper fell into his hands.

Heart pounding, Junhui couldn’t help laughing a little. Seemed like no matter where Wonwoo was, he could still turn his heartbeat erratic. He climbed down from the precarious spot and looked around him. Once he was sure that no one paid him any attention, he carefully opened the note to reveal the neat and familiar script.

_A wedding promise to be kept at midnight,_

_Once to the left, twice to the right,_

_Find the way into the light._

_REALLY?_ Wonwoo left him _another_ riddle? Junhui groaned, closing his eyes in frustration. He kicked at the water. Shaking his head, he read it again and realized that it wasn’t as strenuous on his brain as the ones in the booklet. This one he could actually understand. Wedding promise referred to the ring; midnight had to be a time; right and left must be directions on how to spin the ring. Last night, before he received the vision, he had been messing around with it, and in the vision itself, so did Wonwoo. The last part of the riddle had to mean the vision.

These were instructions on how to share another vision tonight. Junhui was so happy, so buoyant, that when he looked up from the paper and met the eyes of a woman across the street, he didn’t initially react. He didn’t get perturbed until his focus snapped into place.

Slowly, his grin faded as he took inventory of the fiery hair and fierce eyes, the long and claw-like fingernails, the wickedness underlying her beautiful features. His blood ran cold. This was the woman who came to _Healing Bites_ with Warwick. She knew his face, and now she knew he was in Ashberry. Keeping his expression neutral, he gripped Wonwoo’s note tightly into the center of his palm and turned to look for Hansol.

When Hansol saw him approaching, he smiled and waved him over. Junhui discretely threw a glimpse toward the woman’s spot, but she had already left. It didn’t relieve him at all. Who knew where she could still be hiding; it was too risky.

Hansol’s smile dimmed as he took in Junhui’s distressed expression. “What’s wrong?”

Junhui leaned in closer to his ear, making sure Hansol would hear his whispers. “Don’t panic. Pretend I’m telling you a hilarious joke.”

The boy only took a second before he followed through, laughing so hard, he actually shocked a few kids nearby, hitting Junhui’s arm repeatedly.“What’s going on?” he whispered, pretending to wipe invisible tears.

“Keep laughing, okay? Do you know an alternative way back to the shop?”

“Of course!” Hansol laughed, but his eyes wanted to know why.

“Just right now, I noticed a creepy person standing across the street. I think… I think they were following me yesterday, too.”

Hansol’s eyes nearly popped out. “A stalker?” he mouthed. “Yikes! Okay. Don’t worry. There’s no way they’ll be able to follow us back. Let’s go!”

Junhui was glad to take Hansol’s lead. As they got out of the fountain and searched for their shoes, Junhui’s eyes flickered around, attempting to find her, but of course, no signs of her were left. Finished, Hansol threw an arm around his friend’s neck and guided him toward the bakery down the street. They walked briskly, but showed no hint of fear or panic.

Inside the bakery, Hansol guided them around the queue of people, away from the windows. He chatted amicably with the staff, even ordering a few pastries. Then he took Junhui through the back door, and they emerged into an empty lot with no outlet, aside from a small path leading to the streets, which Junhui assumed must be for the trash collectors. Hansol didn’t allow him to wonder for long, before he led him through another door.

This time, they walked in a shoemaker’s shop; the scent of leather saturated the air. Hansol waved hello to the staff again, then pulled Junhui along. He opened a side door. This one led directly into a bookstore. Hansol also seemed to know the people working there. The two of them browsed the shelves for a few minutes, then Hansol continued to lead Junhui through the maze of shops. By the time they finally surfaced on the street, Junhui had lost count of how many shops in totally they’d visited. He also had no idea where they were. Luckily, Hansol was full of confidence.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, they came to a door with a set of curtains at the windows that seemed familiar. Hansol retrieved his keys and unlocked it, taking them inside the kitchen of the antique shop.

“How did you manage to find your way through that maze?” Junhui asked in wonder.

Hansol laughed. “I used to do that when I was little, just to see where the shops would take me, then I realized I was just going home.” He laughed again. “I’d like to see your stalker follow us through that!”

Junhui mussed his hair. “You’re such a bright kid.”

“Can you please tell Jihoon that whenever he scolds me for not doing my homework?”

Junhui burst out laughing.

The two washed up afterward, and Junhui volunteered to help with dinner. Apparently, Jihoon was going to cook since he came home early, but Junhui decided to save him the trouble. He liked cooking, and this was a good way to say thanks.

“How many recipes do you know that involve eggs?” Hansol asked somewhere behind Junhui.

“A few, I guess. Why?” When he turned around, he exclaimed, “Whoa! Where did you get so many eggs?”

Hansol heaved a giant basket onto the kitchen table. “A customer came in while we were gone and paid with eggs. There are…” He picked up a note Jihoon left. “There are five dozens.”

“Five dozens?” Junhui repeated. “As in _sixty_ eggs? Oh, dear.”

“Yeah, so I guess we’ll be eating eggs for the next several days. Can you make egg tarts?”

“That’s not real food,” he laughed. “But sure.”

“Awesome!”

Shaking his head in disbelief at the amount of eggs, Junhui grabbed the recipe book in the corner of the kitchen and flipped through it for all the ones that used eggs. After deciding on a few for tonight, Junhui began to crack the eggs into a bowl, while Hansol checked on the boiling pot on the stove.

“Can you believe some people don’t like to eat the yolk?” Junhui said casually.

“Really? When I little, some woman described it as gold in a fountain of vitality. But she was famous for creating beauty products, so I don’t know,” he laughed.

“Is that supposed to be the egg white?” Junhui arched a brow. “How… poetic.” Hansol laughed, too. “People around here think very highly of eggs,” he said, removing the pot from the fire. “That’s why they sometimes pay with them. Have you ever wondered why they have a color called ‘eggshell’? Because it’s as beautiful as marble. At least, that’s what I hear from the fashion experts who come in here,” he snickered.

Returning to the table with the boiled eggs, he poured in cold water, then picked one up and crushed the shell before starting to peel it. “And then this skin.” He pulled at the thin membrane enveloping the egg. “Don’t you think it’s worthy to be compared to silk? So soft and white as milk.” He laughed. “So many treasures and wealth, yet so easily plundered.” As he spoke, he picked up another egg and crushed its shell.

Junhui opened his mouth to comment, when he halted. All the words Hansol used to describe that egg sounded nearly identical to the riddle. He should know, after all the times he’d read it.

The answer to that riddle is an egg?!

Oblivious to how much he’d helped his friend, Hansol continued to bob his head as he worked.

Junhui did his best to keep his composure as he remarked, “I’ve never heard anyone describe eggs in such a manner.”

Hansol laughed. “Oh, I tried to make a song about eggs, once. But only the old man at the market liked it.”

“An old man? Did you catch his name?”

Putting down the egg he was working on, he thought for a minute. “It’s been such a long time. Ahh... Something with a M… no, an L?”

“Larkin?” Junhui asked, unsure.

Hansol snapped his fingers, grinning. “That’s it! Do you know him?”

Oh, geez. So Hansol was the source of inspiration for this riddle. Idly, Junhui wondered in what other colorful ways had the professor come up with the other riddles. But that was a question for another day. For now, at least this was confirmation that Wonwoo had been correct in determining Ashberry to be the correct answer. He couldn’t wait to talk to him tonight.

As best as he could, he continued to engage in easy conversation with Hansol, cooking and arranging the table. His body was present at the dinner table, but his mind was already off.

It was a very weird coincidence that he had landed in Hansol’s home. Not only did he resemble Jihoon’s fiancée to the point of being her identical twin, Hansol turned out to be the person who inspired one of the riddles. Once again, the question of fate that Minjae had brought up nestled itself in Junhui’s head. The more he continued on this quest, the more it seemed like she was right. That there really is a reason for everything in life.

That night, Junhui could not wait to get to bed. He laid under the covers, waiting for the clock downstairs to chime midnight. Once the house returned to its silence, he held out his hand in front of his face. The ring caught the silver moonlight and winked at him. He turned it once to the left, then twice to the right. This time, when the flash appeared, he was ready. Somewhat. He was just glad he didn’t fall off the bed.

When he fog cleared, he found himself already sitting at the edge of the fountain. It was a strange feeling. Less of a dream and more like a simulation, although he actually had sensations of his surroundings: the hard, cold stone under him, the crisp scent of the wind as it blew past, the nightly fragrance of the flowers, the cool drops of water from the fountain landing on his skin.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps and turned around to see Wonwoo. It felt so good to see him again, Junhui nearly leapt up and tackled him. Since he had some self-control left, he merely ran over and flung his arms around him. Wonwoo let out a surprised “Oh!” but quickly hugged him back.

“I’m so glad to see you again!” Junhui exclaimed.

Wonwoo chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest. “That’s my line, princess.”

Despite the happiness bubbling inside of him, Junhui couldn’t help feeling greedy. He knew that this reunion was only temporary. Very soon, it would be over, and Wonwoo won’t be by his side anymore. So for now, he’ll get as much as he could to last him until they met again in the real world.

“Why haven’t you just dream walked to find me?” Junhui asked him, still nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

Wonwoo stroked through his hair. “It would have taken too much energy,” he answered simply.

Which prompted Junhui to lift his head and ask, “What do you mean? Didn’t you use to always do it?” Wonwoo smiled, his eyes gentle.

“Mm. But that was before I had to split my powers to keep tabs on two other people’s life forces.” Junhui looked at him, doe eyes round with bewilderment.

“Is… is that the spell you meant you put on me?”

“Indeed. What kind of spell did you think it was, hm?” He smirked, eyes flashing green.

Cheeks heating up, Junhui averted his gaze, suddenly very self-conscious of their close proximity. “A-anyway.” He cleared his throat and pretended not to hear Wonwoo laugh at him. “Does this mean that this,” he waved his arms around them, “consumes less energy or something?”

“Yeah, and it’s pretty low on the radar, too. Warwick is monitoring every sign of magic that’s not coming from his own citizens.”

The mention of Warwick reminded Junhui of this afternoon’s encounter, so he quickly told him about the woman.

Afterward, Wonwoo sighed. “Aldith. She’s his sister. I bet you anything she wants the throne for herself, but can’t get it yet, so she’s working with him for now,” he said with a sneer. “We’re gonna have to find a way to escape her watch, otherwise...” He didn’t have to finish the sentence for Junhui to know what awaited them.

“But where have you been all this time?” Junhui asked him. “And how’s Chan?”

“He’s fine, although he still feels guilty he inadvertently led to you getting lost.”

“Huh?”

Wonwoo sighed, shaking his head. “In the middle of a fitting, he noticed a guard outside of the shop, so he paid an employee who matched his build to put on his hat and walk around the block a few times. Unfortunately, you happened to see the guy in the midst of his distraction and followed him. When the guy came back to return the hat, he told Chan that someone suspicious followed him, so he made sure to lose his tail. Going by his description _and_ you going missing from the dress shop, we put the pieces together.”

“Oh, my god.” Junhui clasped his hands over his face and groaned. He felt like an idiot. He was on the same level of intelligence as Warwick’s pawns.

Chuckling lightly at his reaction, Wonwoo wrapped an arm around his shoulder to comfort him. “Such a troublesome kitten.”

“I am so sorry!” Junhui cried into his shoulder. “Because of my mistake, you guys are—I don’t even know where you guys are right now.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Wonwoo rubbed his back. “Don’t worry about us. We’re fine. See me standing here?” he teased a small smile out of Junhui, but the latter still felt the weight of his blunder. It only worsened the worry.

“But this isn’t the real world. For all I know, you could lying somewhere infested with rats, freezing to death, with a broken leg, and Chan could be bleeding from some internal damage—”

“You have an incredible imagination,” Wonwoo interrupted.

“I’m serious!” He grabbed his head in between his hands and paced back and forth. “That’s why you refuse to tell me where you are, right?”

Wonwoo gripped his upper arm to make him stop. “Junhui, I promise you we’re fine. I’m not telling you where we are because you’ll no doubt run there and get yourself into even more trouble,” he smiled, tone playful. “So please just stay put. Wherever you are, I can sense that you’re treated well. At least physically.”

Junhui nodded right away, wanting to give Hansol and Jihoon the proper credit. “I am! They’re very kind to me. There was only a slight hiccup in the beginning.” He winced, unsure if he should talk about Heejin, but decided to tell Wonwoo anyway. “Jihoon, the older brother of the boy who found me, he had a fiancée who looked exactly like me. Except she was a girl.”

Wonwoo arched a brow. “Had?”

He nodded, face downcast. “She and her family were caught in a storm last fall. They didn’t make it home.”

“That’s terrible,” Wonwoo replied sadly.

“It is!” Junhui agreed. “And my face made it even worse!” He sighed, going over to the ledge of the fountain. He stared at his hazy reflection in the water, illuminated by the glow of the street lamps nearby. “I mean, imagine looking at the face of someone you love—someone you wanted to spend your whole life with—but with the knowledge that the two of you will never have a future together because of life’s circumstances.”

An odd expression ghosted over Wonwoo’s face then, but it vanished too quickly for Junhui to even be sure he saw it. “Yeah, I know how that feels,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Never mind. Have you gotten anywhere with the riddles?”

Junhui gasped, hitting his forehead with his palm. How could he have forgotten something this important?

“Yes! I actually got the answer!”

Wonwoo’seyes widened in awe. “That’s great! What is it?”

“An egg!” he replied.

“What? An egg? How did you figure that out?”

“I didn’t.” He laughed, incredulous, still. “Hansol, the boy who took me in, he gave Professor Larkin the inspiration for that riddle. We were talking about cooking eggs, and he recited the lines nearly word for word. Apparently, when he was younger, he tried to make a song about eggs, and Professor Larkin overheard him. How amazing is that?”

“Wow!” Wonwoo nodded, clearly impressed.

“Mm-hm.” He dipped his hands into the water, wondering if it’d feel differently now than earlier this afternoon. The cool liquid slipped through his fingers as he played around.

“Junhui?”

He looked up to find Wonwoo staring at him with a strange expression, the same unfathomable one he wore earlier. “Yes?”

“Do you want to stay here?” he asked. All of a sudden, his tone sounded so unsure. It took Junhui a second to recover and give him a response.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘here’?”

Wonwoo sighed, tilting his head toward the moon. When he looked back at him, he said, “I mean, Chan and I found a way to get you home.”

“Home? As in, Wildflower Grove?”

He nodded, striding toward the end of the fountain. Confused, Junhui followed after him.

“Wait! Why? I thought—I thought we were a team. Is it…” He stopped chasing him. “Is it because I was spotted by that Aldith woman?” he asked, voice small.

Slowly, Wonwoo turned to face him. “No. I want you to know your options. At the time, your only choice was either to come with me or stay back with my aunt. Now I can offer to send you home, where it’s safe.” Stepping closer, he cupped Junhui’s cheek in his palm. “Where you don’t have to lose sleep over life-threatening situations.” The moment Wonwoo dropped his hand, Junhui missed his warmth immediately.

He tried to chase after him again, but Wonwoo waved a hand in the air, and a portal opened. Junhui gasped upon seeing the other side.

It was just an ordinary day at the restaurant: Hayun waiting on tables, the kitchen bell ringing nonstop as Bora and his grandmother cooked and served out hot dishes. Familiar faces smiling as they ate and laughed. Seeing everyone, his throat tightened, and his eyes stung.

He and Wonwoo watched the scene as a group of customers roared into laughter at whatever joke was being told. Although Junhui’s eyes were focused on the vision before him, he could sense Wonwoo’s gaze settle on him, gauging his reaction. Of course he missed his family. Of course he wanted to go home. But not like this. He couldn’t abandon Wonwoo and pretend as if nothing ever happened. If he couldn’t even stay with Hansol without worrying sick over whether Wonwoo and Chan were okay, how could he possibly return to his life in Wildflower Grove with peace of mind? Realistic, he knew that if he were forced to return, eventually, he would start to forget, and all of these adventures would progressively become a distant memory. A passing dream that no matter how much he tried, he won’t be able to make stay.

That wasn’t what he wanted.

He turned away from the portal and looked at Wonwoo imploringly. “Please don’t make me leave. I don’t… I don’t want to wake up.”

Wonwoo closed the gap between them and enveloped him in his arms. He sighed a little. “This dream might soon turn into a nightmare, though.”

Junhui gripped the back of his shirt, shaking his head. “I don’t care. We’re in this together till the end.” The arms around him squeezed with a little more force. Junhui continued, “Do you really think I’d be able to live a normal life if I returned now? What if something happened to you? Do you think I won’t be filled with remorse and regret?”

“You don’t have to know,” he said softly.

Junhui shook his head with vigor. “It’ll haunt me forever.”

Wonwoo shook his head, leaning away far enough so they could see each other. “Dreams don’t last, Junhui. They vanish with the morning dew, the first sun rays. You’ll forget easily, pick up where you left off... Before I interfered.”

“I don’t want to forget,” Junhui insisted. May logic be tossed out the window; he didn’t care. 

For a long moment, they stood there, silently staring at each other. The night was quiet, too. Only the soft voice of the water singing, and the whistling of the wind kept them company. A light layer of fog rolled in, thin wisps curling around their ankles and legs. The silver moonlight shone languidly down upon them.

“Are you sure about this?” Wonwoo broke the silence with a gentle voice. “If you don’t go now, it might be too late.” Although he was right here with him—for now—his voice sounded so far away. Lost.

“I’m sure,” Junhui answered, his voice for once sounding confident and determined through the lump in his throat. Throughout this whole ordeal, this was the decision he was most certain and confident about. Just to prove his point, he knotted his fingers behind Wonwoo’s back.

The latter smiled a little. “Okay.” With one hand raised over the portal, he waved it to close the swirling gateway to Wildflower Grove. Junhui watched as _Healing Bites_ with his grandmother and Hayun slowly turned hazy and disappeared altogether. The two of them were left alone in the silent night again, under the moonlight.

Cupping his cheek, Wonwoo asked, “Tell me where you are right now, princess.”

He nuzzled into the warmth, eyes closed. “Lovely Memory Antiques.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jihoon!!! hellooooo ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾ i'm sorry to junhoon... idk why they keep getting the super angst (つ﹏⊂) i am sorryyy (at least i didn't kill soonyoung, right? 😅)
> 
> DID YOU GUYS SUCCESSFULLY GUESS THE ANSWER TO THE RIDDLE??? bwhahahahahah
> 
> some might wonder why wonu didn’t scold jun, and it’s mainly bc he got distracted (just like predicted at the start lol). he was too happy to see junnie again that he indulged both of them in conversations. he also kinda thought he'd be sending jun home, so... 
> 
> to the readers who were skeptical about chan and junnie getting lost GOOD JOB! (^_<)b 🏆
> 
> hansol is such a good boy™ i love him
> 
> as always, thank you very much for reading! see you very soon!  
> xoxoxo


	10. Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jun grows restless when he loses contact with Wonwoo. Then one day, there is news of WonChan being charged with kidnapping.

The next several days passed with a monotonous, yet restless, routine that drilled at Junhui’s nerves. Even on the best of days, Junhui had difficulties sitting still if he didn’t have something to occupy his attention. Now it seemed like he couldn’t stop fidgeting nearly every second of the day. The annoying sensation pricked at his fingers and toes, and a constant ominous cloud hung over his head. He couldn’t even sleep to make time move faster, because he kept expecting _something_ to come. Something of massive proportion. He waited and waited, but still, nothing.

It went on for days. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure.

After that night at the fountain, Wonwoo never contacted him again. All he had said before the vision ended was that he would come for Junhui ‘soon.’ He made Junhui promise not to go look for him and Chan, and to stay put. Maybe Junhui was a little too optimistic, but he figured Wonwoo would show up within the next day. Having to wait on him like this, without any news, really took a toll on Junhui’s state of mind.

Which Hansol unfortunately noticed. The boy blamed it on the inefficiency of the mailing services, though. Apparently in this realm (or maybe it was only in Everett), a person could go to the post office and ask them to locate a resident’s address. A lot of forms had to be filled out, and within a certain amount of time, the request would go through. Hansol had told him about it when he fetched the mail, thinking it might help Junhui find his brother.

Obviously, the post office couldn’t locate someone who didn’t exist. So instead of going there, Junhui had walked around the block for half an hour, careful not to get lost again, then returned to the shop. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to put up with me for a few more days.”

“What happened? They didn’t process your request?”

“No, uh…” Junhui scratched the back of his neck. “They, um. They said they’re really busy, so it’ll take longer than usual.”

“Oh. Well, it’s no problem. You can stay here as long as you need!” Hansol grinned.

That was three days ago. Before Hansol caught him curled up in the backyard, screaming into an empty flower pot out of frustration and restlessness.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to go there with you?” he insisted now. “Maybe the staff are a little unwilling because you’re from out of town, but if I’m there as a guarantor—or better yet! Let’s ask Jihoon!”

“No!” Junhui jumped up and grabbed Hansol’s hand. “It’s—Thank you, but please don’t worry about it. Jihoon is busy enough as it is, and you have work, too. It’ll be fine. I’ll, uh. I’ll just wait. Let’s not put pressure on the worker.”

Continuing to lie to the people who had been helping him only led to the growth of his sense of guilt, which in turn made his agitation all the more unbearable.

Why didn’t Wonwoo contact him again?Were he and Chan doing okay? Were they having difficulty traveling? Did they get hurt along the way? His mind spun with questions so loudly, he wished he had a mute button. In an attempt to distract himself, he contemplated helping Hansol in the shop, but the idea proved terrible when he remembered that he knew nothing about antiques. Most of the customers were snooty and demanded a full report on the origin of each piece. Needless to say, Junhui couldn’t answer any of their questions, aside from the price.

Thankfully, Hansol swept in like a cool breeze on a hot summer day and won over the lady’s heart with his signature grin and expert knowledge. Junhui went to hide in the corner, dusting knick-knacks on the high shelves.

Since he couldn’t help Hansol in the shop beyond cleaning, he looked around the house for chores to do. He already did the dishes earlier in the morning, and he could only cook so many dishes a day, even if the amount of eggs seemed endless. In the midst of his poking around, he came upon a to-do list Jihoon had written for himself and Hansol. _Perfect!_

Junhui went through the list and picked out tasks he could easily get done. Like dusting the rugs in the entryway. He rolled them up and pushed them outside, where he heaved each one onto the clothes line. Returning inside, he rummaged around until he found something that looked like a combination of a metal fly swatter and a magic wand. A carpet beater, he recalled Hansol telling him when he had asked yesterday. Armed with the rod, he returned to the yard and attacked the rugs.

A giant cloud of dust assaulted him, and he ran away, nearly coughing his lungs out. Who knew there was a wrong way to clean the rugs. Well, at any case, at least he got that task done. Leaving the rugs under the sun to air out, he consulted the list of chores for the next one. That was when he discovered laundry. Well, okay. He didn’t actually discover it, but he found a basket of dirty shirts in the yard, next to an empty basin and the water tap.

“Do you mind if I do the laundry?” Junhui asked, popping into the shop. Doing laundry involved personal items, so he figured he should ask first.

Hansol looked up from his notebook. “What?”

“There’s a laundry basket in the back. Can I give it a try?”

A fair brow arched as Hansol looked at him oddly. Junhui supposed he could have used different wording. Now Hansol probably thought he was some fancy-pants who had never done any laundry himself. Which was sort of true. He had never tried to wash his clothes by hand. But considering he’d already had to borrow a few of Hansol’s outfits, he deemed it appropriate that he helped out.

“Uh, I guess? Are you sure you want to do that?” Hansol asked.

“Positive. Just tell me where the soap is.”

Shaking his head, Hansol agreed with a bit of puzzlement. “Okay, if you insist.” He hopped down from his chair and went to a cabinet to fetch a bar of soap and one of those old-fashioned washboards. “Here, you go. And thank you.” He laughed.

Junhui took hold of the board and stared at it in wonder. “Wow. So this is what people refer to when they say ‘washboard abs,’ huh,” he mused aloud. “But why? Abs don’t look like these things.” He poked at the bumps and dips. “Actually, wouldn’t abs look kind of weird if they looked like this?”

Next to him, Hansol burst into loud laughter, one hand coming down to hit him on the shoulder repeatedly. “Oh, man,” he wheezed, wiping at his tears. “You say the most random things, Jun.”

A customer walked in then, so Hansol ran off to assist the old man. Junhui returned to the yard and began his experimentation. He saw enough movies to know the basics. First, he put the tub under the tap, then while the water filled up the container, he grabbed a low stool to make himself comfortable.

“Okay,” he said to himself. “Let’s get started!”

A couple hours later, Hansol came to check up on him. “Wow,” he let out a low whistle.

Junhui turned around. “Hansolie! What do you think?” He waved his arms toward the dozen or so shirts hanging on the line. His arms felt a little sore from all the scrubbing, and his fingers looked like pink raisins, but he finished! He even managed to dig up the box of clothes pins.

“Um,” Hansol tried not chuckle. “Were you trying to wash yourself, too?”

“Huh?”

He gestured toward the older. “You’re all wet.”

Now that he mentioned it, Junhui did feel a draft. Looking down, he realized that he was covered in splotches of water and soap. “Oh. I guess I was a little too enthusiastic about the scrubbing,” he laughed nervously. “Anyway, is there any more clothes to be washed? What else was on that list of chores again?”

Approaching him, Hansol patted his wet shoulders. “As hilarious as it is to watch you—not to mention awesome that you’re doing my chores for me, I think you need to take a nap.”

“What? No! I don’t want to sleep,” Junhui protested. “I’m not even tired.”

The younger boy sighed. “Look, Jun. I know you’re worried and restless over your brother, but if you keep exerting yourself like this, you’re the one who’s going to end up sick. Did you even sleep last night?” he asked gently.

“Of course I did!”

“The giant bags under your eyes say differently.” Hansol arched a brow.

Defeated, Junhui sighed, shoulders slumped. The younger rubbed his arm in a soothing manner.

He knew Hansol had a point, but Junhui was afraid of sitting still. In the back of his mind, he had a tiny room, where he kept locked up all his fears and anxieties. In the past, he’d always had a pretty firm grip on the key, but lately, those worries slipped past the door like ghosts haunting him whenever his mind wasn’t occupied with a task.

Doubts whispered in his ear, sending shivers up his spine. He didn’t want to listen to them tell him that the reason Wonwoo hadn’t contacted him in days was because he’d been caught. He didn’t want to believe that the cousins could currently be tied up in a cold jail cell while Junhui continued to live blissfully unaware of their plight. To make matters even worse, he couldn’t reach Wonwoo by spinning the ring, either.

As the scary thoughts entered his mind, he fidgeted with the silver band, hoping it could bring him some comfort.

“Huh.”

At Hansol’s low exclamation, Junhui glanced over. “What’s up?”

“No. Nothing.” He shook his head, a perplexed expression crossing his features. “It just seemed like I’ve seen that symbol before.”

“Symbol?” Junhui pulled his hand close to his face and observed the shinny, silver ring. True enough, there was a delicate engraving of a beautiful flower stem wrapped around a diamond. It amazed him how much detail was put into designing this, the multiple, fragile petals of the flower curving at an angle, the stem winding around the edges of the diamond.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed it,” Hansol chuckled.

Junhui laughed, too, although it sounded rather forced. “Of course I’ve seen it. It just escaped my mind.”

“Ah.” Hansol nodded, accepting his lame answer. He was really lucky Hansol was such a nice young man. “Well, I need to go run some errands—”

“Can I come, too?”

“Sorry, Jun.” Hansol looked genuinely disappointed having to refuse his company. “You’re supposed to take a nap, remember?”

Pouting, Junhui pursed his lip. “I’m not a kid,” he mumbled. “I don’t need an afternoon nap.”

Hansol couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Alright, if you say so. Since you’re adamant about it, maybe you can help me with something.”

“Yes!”

“You haven’t even heard what it’s about yet!” He laughed again. “Anyway, we’re expecting a delivery later. I should be home before then, but if they’re early, can you let the mailman in? You won’t have to sign for it.”

“Okay!”

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” Hansol asked as he turned to head out.

Junhui shook his head and smiled. “No, thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.”

Once Hansol left, Junhui knew that the horrible thoughts would return to plague him, so he shook his head and forced himself not to think. His clothes were still damp from his laundry adventures, so he decided to walk around the yard, waving his arms around to help stretch the material and prompt it to dry faster.

A fresh breeze blew through his hair, and the fresh scent of grass and flowers wafted up in the air. He took in a deep breath, enjoying the sunshine warm his skin. Grabbing a watering can, he fed the potted plants, smiling when he noticed wild strawberries. He finished the task quickly, then took a seat on the wooden bench nearby.

No more than ten minutes passed, that he heard footsteps inside the shop. Thinking Hansol returned early, he looked over his shoulder, only to see Jihoon. As the latter noted Junhui there, he momentarily stopped.

After learning about Heejin, Junhui had unconsciously tried to avoid crossing Jihoon’s path. The last thing he wanted was to make Jihoon recall painful memories. Despite what Hansol said about his brother getting closure, Junhui still felt guilty. He even entertained the idea of wearing a paper bag over his head, but that seemed a bit too drastic and ridiculous.

Jihoon, on the other hand, didn’t treat him any differently. He was still as polite and considerate of his guest as before the truth came out. This would be the first time that the two of them were alone together since then.

“Hey, Jun,” Jihoon greeted with a soft smile, voice friendly.

Junhui squirmed a little. “H-hello.”

Gesturing to the rest of the bench, Jihoon asked, “May I?”

“Oh!” He scooted to one side. “Of course.”

“Thanks.”

The pair sat there for a moment, watching a bumblebee crawl into the nearest flower, its wings buzzing as if in excitement. Another pleasant breeze picked up, but this time instead of just the floral scent, there was also something sweet accompanying it. He could have sworn that puff of air came from the bakery down the street. Even after the wind died out, the faint scent of cinnamon lingered. Odd, he thought, brows furrowed. A butterfly flew across his face, and he jumped a little, a squeak making it past his lips.

Next to him, Jihoon chuckled softly.

Hearing him laugh was still so rare, Junhui almost gaped. Almost. He had enough sense of mind to merely smile in return, cheeks a little warm from getting caught making strange noises. Due to a tiny butterfly, no less.

“I see Hansol hasn’t succeeded in convincing you to rest,” Jihoon noted with a pointed look, then gestured at the drying clothes and rugs.

Junhui shrunk back a little. “Um. I just wanted to keep myself occupied.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for abusing your hospitality. I’m sure… I’m sure I’ll hear news of my brother soon.”

“Your brother,” he repeated.

His tone sounded off, causing Junhui’s stomach to twist. Still, he kept his mouth shut, merely peeking at Jihoon from the corner of his eyes.

After a few seconds, Jihoon said, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Since I had to meet a client in the area, I dropped by the post office to check on the progression of your request.”

Junhui froze, fear jolting down his spine like ice. Everything turned quiet. His ears rung. He could no longer hear the ruffling of the leaves, the song of the birds, the buzzing of bees. Not even his own breathing.

The only audible sound was Jihoon’s steady voice as he continued, “Two results showed up for Chan Dino. One of them resides in Serenity Port, with no living siblings. So he couldn’t be the right person. However, the second entry turned out be quite interesting.”

Junhui felt Jihoon look over at him, his gaze expectant, waiting for him to come up with an explanation. But Junhui couldn’t. His hands were shaking, and his breath shallow. His heart pounded so hard against his rib cage, he instinctively clutched his chest in fear. He had deemed it safe to use Chan’s childhood nickname, claiming his brother had changed his name when he became a dance instructor. Junhui was certain that no one would match. Not only had Jihoon gone to the post office, he had found real people. What was Junhui going to do if the person actually lived in town? Would he have to leave? How would Wonwoo find him then?

While Junhui stared at the pebbles at his feet and had a mental breakdown, Jihoon went on.

“There was no information beyond the name: Lee Jung Chan, but a symbol followed it.” Eyes shifting, he gestured toward Junhui’s hand. “The exact same symbol on your ring, in fact.”

Unconsciously, while Jihoon was speaking, Junhui had spun the ring around his finger, hoping it would somewhat ease the stress and tension. Now he dropped his trembling hands to his lap, focusing even more on the small, smooth rocks under his feet. “You never went to the post office,” Jihoon stated, calling him out.

Ashamed, Junhui shook his head. “H-how do you even know that?”

“Cinnamon.”

“Huh?” He looked up in confusion, seeing a small smile tugging the corners of Jihoon’s mouth. He didn’t look angry at all.

“The ink there smells like cinnamon.” Pulling at his sleeve, he showed Junhui the small imprint on his wrist. “When you go inside, they stamp you in order of arrival. The ink doesn’t wash off that readily.” He pointed at Junhui’s empty wrists. That was enough of an answer.

“Oh. Hansol didn’t say anything.”

“Hansol pays attention selectively.”

“Right.”

“Right,” Jihoon repeated. “So.”

Feeling his stare, Junhui peeked at him sheepishly.

“Would you like to explain to me why I’ve been keeping Prince Wonwoo’s fiancé in my house for the past week?”

For a few seconds, Junhui just looked at him. He blinked. Once, then twice. The words made sense, yet by the way he put them together in a sentence, Junhui didn’t get it. Wonwoo is engaged? Did Jihoon think Junhui and Wonwoo were engaged? As the realization hit, his cheeks turned bright red, and his eyes turned round.

“I'm not—”

Loud banging on the door of the shop startled him. The person impatiently rang the bell incessantly, too. Jihoon frowned, clicking his tongue at the ruckus.

“Maybe that’s the delivery that Hansol expected,” Junhui said.

Jihoon continued to scowl, looking back toward the house. “Why are they causing so much noise?” With an irritated sigh, he got up. Before he went in, though, he turned to Junhui. “I’m still expecting an explanation.”

The other boy shrunk under his intimidating stare, nodding despite himself.

Satisfied, Jihoon went to answer the impatient visitor.

Junhui sat outside, chewing on the tip of his thumb. What was he supposed to tell Jihoon? Certainly not the truth. He had only a couple minutes to come up with a reliable lie.

When more than five minutes passed without any sign of Jihoon returning, Junhui grew wary. To reassure himself that maybe Jihoon just happened to open the door to the most sticky solicitor, Junhui snuck back inside. Once he crossed into the house, he started to hear voices, but the distance made it impossible to make out the words. Jihoon was speaking to a woman.

Hiding behind the cabinet and a leafy houseplant, Junhui spied. The first person he saw, obviously, was Jihoon. He stood planted at the front door, one arm holding the door open as a clear sign that the visitor wasn’t welcomed inside. Junhui shifted a little, hoping to see past Jihoon’s figure.

A flash of fiery hair caught his attention just as a stern voice reached his ear. “I’m afraid I cannot disclose that kind of information to citizens, Mr. Lee.”

Junhui gasped, pressing a hand over his mouth. _It’s her! That Aldith woman!_ Quickly, he pressed himself flat against the wall.

“But I don’t seem to understand,” Jihoon insisted. “What is the connection between Prince Wonwoo and this young man?” A chill broke out, radiating throughout Junhui’s whole body. Aldith was looking for him and Wonwoo. As terrifying as that sounded, at least he knew that Wonwoo was still okay. But now Warwick definitely knew their little group was in Ashberry.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Aldith kept up appearances by answering Jihoon’s question. “We believe that Prince Wonwoo and his cousin have taken Mr. Wen Junhui as hostage.”

_What?!_ Junhui was so close to screaming in outrage, but he restrained himself at the last minute. Wonwoo had explained that Warwick didn’t want to involve his citizens, because some of them were very fond of Serenity Woods, with high regards for the Royal family, too. In order to turn the tides, Warwick was trying to dirty Wonwoo’s name and reputation to galvanize Ashberry (and eventually the entire country) to catch them for him.

Coward.

“Shouldn’t this matter be left to Serenity Woods to take of?” Jihoon questioned. Junhui could almost see the look of defiance on his handsome face.

Evidently, Aldith was not happy with all his questions and lack of cooperation. Still, Junhui had to admire that woman; she sure could control her irritation and frustration. “There is reason to believe they are hiding in Ashberry, so as neighboring nations, we have the duty to help. Just like when Prince Wonwoo disappeared a few months ago.”

Junhui scoffed.

He saw Jihoon’s head nod. “I see.”

“Do you, Mr. Lee?” she asked. Her voice caused the room’s temperature to drop several degrees. Junhui shuddered at the thinly veiled threat. “Because you do know the consequences of lying to the Court, don’t you?”

Jihoon let out a small laugh. “There’s no need to threaten me.”

She paused, clearly not expecting him to call her out.

“Are you certain you have not seen either Wen Junhui or Prince Wonwoo?” she wanted to know, ready to change the topic back to the matter at hand.

“Positive.”

They continued to speak for a couple more minutes, but Junhui was exhausted. The calmness that surrounded him earlier had evaporated, leaving him raw and drained. Leaning against the wall, he pulled his legs to his chest and dropped his head into his arms, resting them on his knees.

He heard Jihoon close the front door, passing him by, before retracing his steps. There was nowhere for Junhui to run, nowhere for him to hide. Jihoon might have covered for him for now, but this was proving to be the second time Junhui had lied to him. Would he ask him to leave now? Junhui wouldn’t blame him.

Gulping, he steadied his nerves and lifted his head, waiting for Jihoon’s anger to rain down on him. Instead of a scowl, Jihoon’s face remained smooth. He gazed at Junhui for another second, before he shook his head and dropped to his haunches to be at eye level. He arched a brow, waiting.

“A-are you going to kick me out?” Junhui asked in a tiny voice.

Shock crossed over Jihoon’s face. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I lied and—and I put you and Hansol in danger, and I’m basically a criminal and—”

“Hey.” Calmly, Jihoon put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. If I planned on kicking you out, I’d have done it already.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d have collected the reward, too.”

Unrolling it, he revealed a wanted posted for Wonwoo, Chan, and Junhui, essentially. Instead of mug shots, it was a very well detailed picture of Wonwoo and Chan kidnapping him. Wonwoo grabbed him from behind, keeping him still, while Chan stood to the side, holding a piece of rope.

Staring at the poster, Junhui’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Forget _Photoshop_ , this looked real enough to convince even _him_ , which said something. All he could do was gape at it like a fish out of water.

Jihoon chuckled at his reaction. “I gotta give it to Damhan. He did an amazing job,” he said, admiring the poster. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have believe it.”

“Yeah… Even _I_ want to believe it.”

“So.” He threw the poster on top of the cabinet. “Want to start explaining what’s going on now?”

Junhui winced, pulling on the sleeves of his shirt. “It’s a long story.”

“Mm. I figured.” Standing up, Jihoon stretched, then tilted his head, gesturing for Junhui to come sit at the table.

While Junhui got comfortable—as comfortable as he could in this situation—Jihoon went to the kitchen and brought out a pitcher of orange juice. He poured them each a glass. Junhui thanked him, gulping half of it in one go. Then he took in a deep breath and began to talk. He told him as much as he could, leaving out the embarrassing moments and the existence of the magic cave.

“So that tells me how you ended up here,” Jihoon summarized after he finished. “And about your relationship to Prince Wonwoo, but I still don’t see why Warwick would lie about him kidnapping you.” Jihoon sat back in his chair, contemplating that bit of information.

Junhui hesitated, then spoke again. “You and Hansol have helped me so much, giving me a lot more than I could ever repay. But half of that story contains a secret that isn’t mine to share.” He lowered his eyes to his hands, folded in his lap.

“Jun, I know you’re scared, but I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that,” Junhui corrected right away. “It’s not about trust. I just don’t want you and Hansol to be caught in the middle of this mess.” He sighed. “Wonwoo knows something that Warwick doesn’t want him to. I know he’s your King, and you probably feel loyal to him, but the truth isn’t so. He’s not as benevolent as he wants you to believe.”

“My loyalty doesn’t come at the cost of my intelligence,” Jihoon said. “If he’s crooked, he’s crooked. I’m not going to cry over it.”

“Oh,” Junhui let out a relieved little laugh. “That’s… That’s good. Um. Well, because of this… secret, he considers Wonwoo a threat, someone he wants out of his way. Chan found out, so he became an accomplice. That’s why both of them are ‘guilty’ of such a crime. He wants to get you and everyone to turn your back on Serenity Woods.” With another sigh, Junhui rubbed at his face.

“There’s nothing you can do. I don’t even know where Wonwoo is right now.” He swallowed, his throat tight.

“Does Hansol know all this?” the other asked.

“No.” Junhui sank in his seat. “I didn’t want you to get involved, besides, it isn’t my secret to tell.”

Jihoon nodded, processing what Junhui had just told him.

“Jihoon? Jun?” Hansol called from the front of the house. The door clicked shut behind him. They both turned toward the hall.

“Living room,” Jihoon called.

“Do you know what the Court’s people are doing around the neighborhood?” Hansol asked. A few seconds later, he appeared.

Jihoon threw Junhui a look, then returned his attention to his brother. “Did they say anything when you came in?”

Hansol looked confused. “No, why?”

“Nothing, I thought they might have mentioned what they were waiting for.” He shrugged. So Jihoon wanted to keep this from Hansol. Junhui could respect that. The less the younger knew, the safer he’d be.

Hansol didn’t offer any more questions after that, and the rest of the evening went about the same way as it always did. Hansol helped Junhui with the cooking, and they served dinner. Junhui’s head was far away, fretting over what would happen now. Jihoon knew, so at least Junhui didn’t have to keep lying to him. But with Aldith suspecting that someone in the neighborhood harbored him, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be safe here. Not to mention, how long Jihoon and Hansol would be left unbothered.

And still, Wonwoo remained silent and out of reach.

*  ･ﾟﾟ･ *  ✿ ⋆ :°*  ❀ *  ･ﾟﾟ･ *

The lights downstairs had gone off for three hours now. Junhui would know; he had heard and counted all the times the clock chimed on the hour. It would soon go off again for midnight, and still, he couldn’t fall asleep. With a sigh, he sat up and struck a match, lighting the candle on his bedside. He dug up the riddle book. He still had no idea what the egg hint referred to, but he could at least get started on the next one to be productive.

_When you look me in the eye_

_I will tell you no lie._

_If you smile at me,_

_I will be very happy._

_You and me, we are the same,_

_Even if this is only a game._

_A wall keeps us apart,_

_So we will never touch,_

_But do not miss me too much and fret_

_For you will see me again where we first met._

Alright, so one more riddle that Junhui couldn’t solve. Nothing new there. He let out a defeated sigh, leaning his head against the headboard. He sat there, staring at the page until he heard the clock strike midnight. Not wanting to let the candle to go waste, he leaned over and blew it out. He’ll just have to do the thinking in the dark.

The chiming of the clock faded out, plunging the house in silence once more. Midnight reminded him of his meeting time with Wonwoo, and a pang sliced through his chest. _Where are you, Wonwoo?_ Thoughts muddled, he cradled his hands to his chest, fingers spinning the ring again. But unlike last time, no vibrant flash of light knocked him out.

It made sense for Wonwoo to disappear, considering the authorities were now officially searching for him. The witch hunt would also explain why he still hadn’t come for Junhui. With the town and guards being on high alert, it would be too risky.

Admitting defeat, Junhui put the riddle book away and slid back under the covers. He had to sleep, otherwise Hansol would get worried again. Closing his eyes, he attempted to imagine fluffy sheep, when suddenly, loud banging at the front door broke the silence.

Junhui jolted awake and hurried out of bed. His heart jumped into his throat as he pressed himself against the wood, listening. More fists pounded at the door, nearly enough to jostle the hinges. Unintelligible shouts followed the hits.

He pulled the bedroom door open just in time to see Jihoon exiting Hansol’s room. The younger rubbed sleepily at his eyes, hair a mess, but nodded at whatever his brother had instructed. When Jihoon turned, he noticed Junhui’s frazzled state and quickly made his way to him, expression grave.

“Get dressed. Quickly,” he ordered. “Go out through the back and stay in the courtyard. Do _not_ turn around no matter what you hear, got it?”

A thousand questions flitted across his mind, but the one that made it out was, “What about Hansol?”

Jihoon shook his head. “He already knows what to do. Just please follow what I ask, okay? You’ll be safe there, trust me.”

Junhui didn’t dare refuse, not when the pounding at the door resumed, more urgent this time.

“I need to go,” Jihoon said, quickly heading for the stairs. “Do not return to the house once you’re outside,” he repeated. Then his figured descended the steps.

Adrenaline shooting through his whole body, Junhui dashed back inside his room and changed out of his sleepwear as quickly as he could. He grabbed his things and made sure he didn’t forget anything. He still didn’t have a proper handle on the situation, but he knew enough to understand that he wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

Down the narrow staircase, he ran, taking a sharp turn for the kitchen. He ducked behind the corner, hidden by the houseplant, slipping on his shoes. By then, his heartbeat was loud enough to rival the echo of voices coming from the front of the shop.

“The fugitives have been sighted fleeing into your yard, Mr. Lee. We need to do a quick inspection of your house,” one man told Jihoon.

“There must be a mistake,” Jihoon retorted, voice even and indisputable. “I have been working all night, and my office window overlooks the yard. No one has taken refuge there.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Lee, the fugitives are no ordinary criminals. As you must be aware, Prince Wonwoo has a large repertoire of spells and power at his disposal. It would not be difficult for him to trick your eyes.”

“You’re speaking in hypotheticals,” Jihoon pointed out. “Unless there is proof of Prince Wonwoo’s presence in the area, I am not letting a whole troop of soldiers enter my property and turn it upside down. My brother is gravely ill. Any disturbance can and will affect his chances of recovery.”

Objectively, no matter how persuasive and commanding Jihoon sounded standing up to these guards, he couldn’t hold them off for long. So far, they’d been keeping up appearances, especially since the ruckus had disturbed the neighbors, too. Who knew how long Warwick’s patience would last, though. Junhui had to take this chance to escape. Jihoon was stalling for him. He couldn’t let it go to waste. Pulling the door open, he slid out into the chilly night.

The brief moment it took his eyes to adjust to the dark, was not, in fact, _brief._ Even after several seconds, he couldn’t make out even the silhouette of things around him. Could his pupils not dilate any larger? A little panicked, he turned over his shoulder, but instead of seeing the dim glow of the lights inside the house, he saw… nothing.

It was pitch black all around him, as if he had fallen into a pot of ink. To make matters worse, he faintly heard Jihoon shouting at the guards to leave, but the brutes marched inside, regardless, their heavy boots causing even the floorboards to rattle and shake. The leader ordered his men to search the entire house. Junhui had to hide before they moved to the yard with lights. Not only would he be caught, Jihoon and Hansol would get in trouble, too.

Relying on his memory, he put his arms forward and took a tentative step. He kept one hand raised in front of his head, while the other felt around. More noises came from the house, startling him, but he bit back the urge to check on the brothers and kept moving. He didn’t pick up his feet, afraid he might trip over something. Instead, he slid along the ground, avoid rocks and various obstacles that way.

In hindsight, he had been so naive thinking that he’d escaped that day Aldith spotted him. It might have taken her a few days to track him down, since Hansol had successfully navigated the maze of shops, but in the end, she still managed to find the correct house. Now the people who had showed him nothing but kindness will get involved. His stomach twisted. A sudden thought occurred to him. Those guards had orders to search every room for signs of him. They will no doubt come to see Heejin’s pictures—Junhui’s face.

Even if Heejin was a real person in this realm, there was no telling how much Aldith and Warwick could distort the truth to get what they want. The scum had already made up so many lies about Wonwoo, why would he stop there? Jihoon and Hansol could be arrested for hiding Junhui, even charged with being accomplices. Their inability to reveal Wonwoo and Chan’s whereabouts would be seen as obstruction of justice. The possibilities were endless, and it was all Junhui’s fault.

His hand touched something rough and flaky. Tree bark. He must have gotten to the center of the yard. Feeling his way around it, he thought hard about going back to help. If he turned himself in, would the brothers be safe?

_‘Do_ not _turn around no matter what you hear… Do not return to the house once you’re outside.’_

Junhui let out a breath. Of course, there was no guarantee that Aldith would let Hansol and Jihoon go free. Not after they’d already showed ‘disobedience.’ Junhui interfering would only lead to more trouble for everyone. Doing his best to pick himself up, he continued to navigate through this abnormal darkness. Even during a new moon—which shouldn’t occur for days to come—he’d still be able to see _something_ in a town. Street lamps would provide some illumination. Right now, he couldn’t even tell if his eyes were shut or not.

His knees brushed against some leaves, the lace of his shirt caught on the branches. A bush. Bending over a little, he skimmed his hands over it, untangling himself. Jihoon told him to stay in the yard, but where was he supposed to hide? The shed would be too obvious of a hiding spot.

“Seo,” a booming voice from inside the house tore through his thoughts. Junhui jumped, biting the back of his hand to keep quiet. “Go into the yard and check it out. And be thorough.”

_Oh, no!_ He took too long. They were done searching the house. Panicked, he dropped to his hunches, squatting behind the bush he had just encountered. Maybe with the door opened, some light will spill out and he’ll be able to see a bit better. He would have the advantage over this Seo person, since his eyes had been exposed to the dark.

He sat there, not daring to breathe. The creak of the door signaled the guard exiting the house, but no light. _What?_ Junhui didn’t have time to wonder. Not when the sound of heavy boots hit the pebbled path.

“I know you’re out there,” Seo muttered.

Fear sent a shock through his body, limbs tingling from it.

“Turn yourself in, and His Majesty will send you home unscathed.”

_Fat chance!_

Junhui uncurled himself and began to crawl.

He didn’t take more than three steps, when someone seized him from behind. A large hand clamped over his mouth, shutting out any scream or noise he could have made. He kicked and thrashed, but it seemed as though his kidnapper was the darkness itself. He couldn’t hit him. The grip around his face tightened, then a numbness began to spread through his body. His arms and legs fell limply against his sides, and a fog filled his head.

Thousands of pins and needles pricked at his skin, as though his entire body had fallen asleep. He was dragged away, somehow. He couldn’t even tell if his feet touched the ground or if he was stuffed inside a trunk and hauled off. Not when his senses were getting overloaded like this. Every touch, every bump made him wince and hiss. Which way was up? Which way was down?

Faintly, he heard something like a door opening. Was he taken back inside the house? He expected his eyes to be blasted with light, but the darkness continued to surround him. Where was he being taken to? Around him, the temperature dropped. It smelled… like earth, and it felt damp. Were they underground? A tunnel? Was he already in jail?

His head spun and his stomach was nauseous, signs of magic being used. No wonder. After he was caught, he was probably shoved through a portal, which would explain why his arms and legs didn’t work, why his head felt like it’d been stuffed full of cotton.

An icy draft hurled past, and Junhui shivered. Definitely some kind of dungeon, he lamented. Should he consider it a blessing that the spell put on him muffled the sounds around him? That way he wouldn’t hear the haunting clings of shackles and cries from other prisoners. How would he be able to escape if they shackled him to the walls? What would happen to Wonwoo now?

Something around him shifted. Or maybe it was just him. The pins and needles still made it really difficult to tell what was happening, but he could somehow feel hard ground under his hands. Had they thrown him in a cell? He supposed he should be grateful to the numbness. No pain.

When something cool and wet touched his face, though, he shrieked and scampered away, only to hit the back of his head against the wall. Curling up in pain, he rubbed at his head, a whine slipping past his lips. Why must the effects of the spell end now?

“Junhui!”

Someone pulled him in, and steady hands covered his as the person tried to take the pain away.

“Does it still hurt?”

As the familiarity of the voice made it past his shock, Junhui snapped his eyes open. A worried Wonwoo peered at him, hands still feeling around the bump on his head. A bump Junhui completely flung out of his concern as he threw himself at the other.

“Wonwoo! You’re okay!” he exclaimed. The force of his tackle almost sent the two of them on the ground, but Wonwoo managed to steady them. “Oh, my god, I am so happy to see you!” He squeezed him tight, burrowing his face into the crook of Wonwoo’s shoulder. All those days and nights worrying about him, wishing to see him. Now he was here, right in his arms. He closed his eyes and breathed him in. Wonwoo tightened his arms around him in response, smoothing down his hair.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. “Yes. We’re okay.”

“Mm.” He hummed. “No, wait!” Realization hit like a bucket of water over his head. His dream-like state crashed and burned. If Wonwoo was here with him, then—“We’re not okay! We’re in jail!” He pushed him away far enough to see him. “Where’s Chan? Are you hurt? Did they do anything? What are we going to do—”

“Hey hey hey!” Wonwoo grabbed his shoulders to stop his flailing, but the string of rapid-fire questions and comments kept going until Wonwoo held Junhui’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “Stop. Calm down,” he ordered. “We’re not in jail.”

“What?” Junhui reeled. “B-but the soldiers and—and—the guy in the yard—the spell—What?”

Sighing in relief that Junhui had stopped screaming in a tizzy, Wonwoo released him. “I brought you down here. We’re safe. At least for the time being.”

Flabbergasted, Junhui stared at him with round eyes and a hanging jaw. “Huh?” Now that he could see again, he glanced at their surroundings. Indeed, his guess had been correct. They were underground. A small lantern burned in the center of the room, casting shadows all over the uneven walls. Then he noticed Chan in the corner, sitting with his arms around his knees.

“Channie!” Junhui cried out. “You’re okay!” Relief washed over him a second time, and he sighed.

“Jun…” The younger looked up at him with sad and guilty eyes. “I’m sorry for getting us in this mess. I didn’t—”

“No!” He quickly shook his head and hands. “No, it wasn’t your fault. Who knows what might have happened if you hadn’t sent that employee to confuse the guard. Besides, we’re here now. I mean, I’m _really_ confused about _how_ we got here, but…” He looked over at Wonwoo, hoping for some help.

Although worn out from the past week, Wonwoo still looked handsome, more than Junhui remembered. Faint stubble over his chin and face roughened his usual elegant appearance, but his eyes remained as beautiful and vibrant.

“And… What happened to Jihoon and Hansol?” he asked, a little apprehensive of the answer.

“By now, they should be on a ferry to Roselia. I have a friend there. He owns a tiger sanctuary, so he’s generally left alone by the authorities. Jihoon and Hansol will be able to take refuge there until they see fit to move on.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Junhui slumped against the wall. “But how…?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked from one cousin to the other. Now that he knew they weren’t going to rot in jail, he wanted some answers.

“We actually found the antique shop several days ago,” Chan took over. “But Warwick’s minions walked around the town like ants. They must have gotten new orders after Aldith saw you. So we had to prepare an alternative plan. Once we heard back from Soonyoung—that’s the guy who owns the tiger sanctuary—we put the plan into action.”

“He helped me get ingredients,” Wonwoo explained. “Since I couldn’t use my powers—especially not now—for the spell.”

“You mean, that’s why the whole backyard looked pitch black?”

“Yeah, along with everything that followed,” Wonwoo nodded. “It’s meant to disorient anyone who crosses into it, by blocking out their senses. I know it must have been scary,” he said, a tinge of guilt coloring his tone. “But with limited resources and time, I couldn’t havegiven you a warning.”

Junhui nodded in understanding. With the buzzing in his ears from the fear and the spell, he couldn’t be sure that he would have heard Wonwoo back then anyway. “How come you were able to navigate through it so easily?”

“I cast it,” he answered with a shrug.

“Ah. Right. But wait, so that means you talked to Jihoon.”

Wonwoo nodded. “The original plan was to use the spell to surround the entire house to keep the guards from seeing us escape. But when we arrived, they had already posted several soldiers around the property. They were getting ready to ambush it. Luckily for us, they’re still idiots, so we snuck in the back unseen.” 

“When Lee Jihoon came out of the house, though,” Chan interjected, “I thought I was going to have a heart attack!”

Junhui couldn’t help laughing, pressing a hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“It sounded a little too good to be true when he said he could help us, but Wonwoo trusted him.” Chan shrugged. “So then the plan changed _again_. He actually told us of this tunnel. It was apparently used as some sort of storm shelter way back in the day.”

“Wow,” Junhui nodded in appreciation, eyes darting around. Now it made perfect sense why Jihoon told him to stay in the yard. He knew Wonwoo would be waiting to take him to safety. “So then you helped him and Hansol leave Ashberry.”

Wonwoo agreed. “There was no way that they wouldn’t be charged after tonight.”

“But what will happen when the guards realize that they’ve escaped?”

“They won’t waste their time looking for them,” Wonwoo said. Patting Junhui’s shoulder, he added, “They’ll be safe with Soonyoung.”

“Thank you.” Junhui lowered his head. He hoped that one day, when this was all over, he’d able to see them again, happy and safe.

“In the meantime, we’ll have to stay here until morning.”

“Morning? Isn’t that bad?” Junhui asked. “They can see us easier.”

“True, but in the daytime, there are other citizens around. It’ll be harder for them to distinguish us from the crowds,” Wonwoo said.

“Oh, yeah.” Junhui patted the bag with all his dresses. “We never got to play dress up.”

“I’m sure it’ll come in handy now,” Chan agreed. “But where would we go next?” he wanted to know. “The last riddle talked about an egg. Are we going to set off to a farm somewhere in town?”

Wonwoo took his chin in his hands and thought. “What does the next riddle say?”

“Something about looking in someone’s eyes?” Junhui dug for the small journal in his pocket and opened it to the right page.

The cousins took a look, reading it under their breaths.

Afterward, Chan stifled a yawn, which caused a chain reaction. Junhui didn’t realize how tired he felt until all the adrenaline had run out.

“It’s late,” Wonwoo sighed. “Let’s get some sleep and pick up tomorrow. We have a long day ahead of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! WonHuiChan finally reunite! ٩(๑> ₃ <)۶♥ sorry it wasn't a full-on emotional scene with cheese, but i figured we already had something similar in the last chapter, so. besides, they're all exhausted from their ordeal. this seems more realistic, no? i'm sorry if it disappointed you guys 😔
> 
> did you like the action sequence? hahaha
> 
> and yes... lowkey soonhoon 👀 hehe
> 
> any guesses for the next riddle? i promise next chapter we'll actually get what the egg refers to 😂
> 
> as always, thank you very much for reading! i hope you're still enjoying the adventure! take care~  
> xoxoxo


	11. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WonHui go exploring the tunnels, and Wonu is forced to recount something from his past.

The following morning, Junhui opened his eyes to a dimly lit corner of the cellar. The old lantern hung lazily on a nail next to old dusty shelves, showing the outlines of a few forgotten items covered in cobwebs. Idly, he wondered how long this storm shelter had been abandoned. When was it last used? Neither Jihoon nor Hansol mentioned it to him during his stay, but then again, he supposed that they had no reason to bring it up.

Shifting to lay on his back, he rubbed his eyes with closed fists, waiting for the grogginess of sleep to retreat. It was amazing how, over the course of a single night, people’s lives can change so drastically. Junhui had reunited with Wonwoo and Chan at last. Meanwhile, somewhere far away, Hansol and Jihoon were fleeing to a new life. Who could have predicted it?

He really hoped the brothers successfully made it to Roselia, wherever that was, safely. They were such good and hardworking people, kind and generous. They really deserved to have happy lives. Perhaps it was selfish of Junhui, but he hoped that with time, they would find it somewhere in their hearts to forgive him for lying and uprooting them from their home. He sighed quietly, thinking back to the days he spent with them, wishing them the best now.

While he reflected on the past couple weeks and everything that had happened so far, a soft creak above made him whip toward the ladder and the trapdoor. A second later, Wonwoo climbed down, locking the door securely behind him. Junhui exhaled in relief. When Wonwoo saw him, he smiled.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he whispered, glancing at his cousin to ensure the younger still slept.

Junhui did the same before nodding. “Where did you go?”

“Just checking to see if it was safe to go out that route. But it doesn’t look likely. The place is swarming with Warwick’s men.”

“Didn’t they see you?”

He shook his head. “No one was watching the yard. Besides, the spell hasn’t worn off completely yet.” Wonwoo dug roughly through their bags to find the journal.

“Does that mean we won’t be able to rely on it?”

Already distracted by the riddle, he answered briefly. “Mm. Since it’s not my own magic, I can’t pinpoint the exact duration. I don’t want to risk it.” He closed the book, satisfied with whatever answer he found. “In the meantime, come with me.”

After giving Junhui a few minutes to wash up, Wonwoo led him farther down the cellar, past the rackety shelves and down a tunnel. He’d left the lantern back there for Chan, together with a note about them exploring the area. Junhui wasn’t sure what could possibly be there for them to explore. Unless there was some hidden secret passageway?

The pair walked away from their campsite, their shadows gradually blending into the dark corners of the tunnel. Once they went beyond the glow illuminated by the lantern, Wonwoo snapped his fingers. Instantly, a small lavender flame surged in the palm of his hand, chasing away the dark.

“Oh!” To say that the suddenness startled Junhui would be an understatement. In fact, Wonwoo found his jump rather funny, going by the chuckles.

“You’re such a scaredy cat,” Wonwoo muttered lightly.

“Hmph!” Feigning vexation, Junhui cut his eyes at him, before bending over to stare at the fire. “Is it hot?” he asked. After the many tv shows and books showcasing fire powers, he’d always wondered if the person felt the heat, if it was uncomfortable.

“Not this one.”

Eyes flickering upward, he furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not real fire,” he explained. “It’s just magic to help us see.”

Nodding, he went back to staring at the flames as they danced and swayed in Wonwoo’s palm, the color not very different from his eyes. “Can I touch it?”

Wonwoo chuckled, but stopped walking and lifted his hand toward the curious boy, nevertheless. “Sure.”

Tentatively, Junhui extended his index finger out. Despite being told that it wouldn’t burn, he still expected some heat. His fingers stroked along the purple flames, and a soft giggle tumbled out of his lips in delight. There was indeed no heat whatsoever, just a steady flow of energy caressing his skin, as soft as silk. A wide grin spread across his face, like a little kid getting a new toy.

“This is so cool!” he exclaimed, laughing still as he grew a little less shy.

Above him, Wonwoo grinned, a gentle and fond expression. It only lasted a second, before something more playful replaced it. “If I’d known this was all it took to get you so excited, I wouldn’t have bothered with the flowers and cakes.”

At the mention of the grand gesture, and the comments that Hayun had made about it, Junhui’s cheeks flushed bright red. “I’m just easily excitable!” he said without thinking.

“Oh. Is that so?” Without even looking, he could hear the smirk in Wonwoo’s tone, which caused him to blush even more.

To save himself from potentially running away in embarrassment and getting lost _again_ , Junhui quickly straightened up and changed the subject. “A-anyway! Where are we going?”

Clearly, Wonwoo was aware of his evasive tactic, but he merely shook his head and let it go without teasing Junhui more. The latter breathed out. “Up ahead, there’s going to be a little… surprise?” he thought about the wording as they resumed their trek. “You’ll see shortly.”

“Is it a good surprise?”

Wonwoo laughed.

As promised, they arrived at what appeared like the end of the tunnel within a couple minutes. The wall showed no cracks, nothing that could be considered an entry. Perplexed, Junhui looked back at Wonwoo.

“Is this a trick question?”

Smiling, Wonwoo gestured for him to take a better look at the wall. “What do you see?”

Squinting, he used the light from Wonwoo’s hand to search the entirety of the wall. He had no idea what he was supposed to see or find, which made the task rather silly. Eventually, though, he noticed some faint drawing. _Don’t tell me there’s some kind of caveman artwork here._

“Wait a second…” He took a step back. “Is that… an egg? A giant egg?” Now that he knew what it was, he could hardly believe it. Someone—he guessed Professor Larkin—had somehow managed to use the swirls and discoloration of the rocks to form a picture of an egg nearly as tall as their height.

Chuckling lowly at his incredulous exclamation, Wonwoo nodded. He stepped up to the wall and traced his fingers along the faint outline. Instantly, the egg glowed, then a doorway appeared in the shape of the drawing.

“Professor Larkin really only wanted you to find it,” Junhui commented as they entered the passageway.

“Mm. But I have no idea how he expected me to know that it was underneath the antique shop.”

“Yeah,” Junhui agreed. “If it wasn’t for Hansol casually bringing up his song about eggs…”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo sighed. “My parents used to call him eccentric. Now I’m starting to see why.”

“You only think so _now?”_ he laughed, and Wonwoo smiled.

The steady sound of their footsteps filled the silence for a short while, then Junhui spoke up again. “So I’m gathering from your lack of surprise that you’ve already explored what’s the end of this passageway.”

“Yeah. I think I figured out the answer to the riddle, too.”

Eyes wide, Junhui let out an awed “Wow!” He peered at him. “Someone’s been very busy, huh?”

“Of course,” Wonwoo played along. “I can’t let you solve all the riddles, can I?”

Junhui laughed. “So then, what is it?”

“Don’t you want to solve it yourself?” Wonwoo teased.

“That’s not fair. I told you the answer for the other one.” He pouted exaggeratedly, causing the other to chuckle. “You gotta share now.”

“Okay, okay. Your reflection.”

“My reflection?” Junhui repeated, brows pinched. His mind immediately conjured up the picture of Heejin in Jihoon’s office.

Wonwoo clarified, “I mean, the mirror’s reflection. Think about it: your reflection looks you straight in the eye, it can’t lie. You and your reflection will always be separated by a wall.”

Thinking on the rest of the lines, Junhui nodded. “Yeah, I see. But how will that help us? What’s at the end of this tunnel?”

“Nothing but a mirror,” he replied. “Which reinforces my belief that the answer is correct, but as for what we’re supposed to do with a mirror, I don’t know.”

“Hmm. Have you looked around it for a clue? Or examined the mirror itself?”

He nodded and added, “I couldn’t find anything, which is why I thought getting a fresh pair of eyes would help.”

“Good idea. And if we don’t find anything, we could try consulting the next riddle.”

“I suppose,” he answered, but he didn’t sound all that pleased.

Junhui wordlessly asked him why.

He sighed. “Why would he lead us to a mirror if we’re not supposed to do anything with it? Even the egg riddle served its purpose, regardless of how confusing and convoluted it was.”

Pensively, Junhui nodded slowly. “We should have brought Chan, too. I didn’t know he was such a late riser on his own.”

“It’s the spell.”

“Huh? I thought you’d have removed it by now.” After how much Wonwoo agonized over the effects of his sleeping spell and the powder from Warwick’s men, Junhui had figured that Wonwoo would have wiped it out of Chan’s system as soon as he could.

“I did. This is something else.” Wonwoo sighed, shoulders heavy. “He’s still just a kid. I promised my aunt that I’d take care of him. This spell is only supposed to help him recuperate.”

Junhui stayed silent for a brief moment, then commented softly, “He’s lucky to have you.”

Wonwoo snorted in answer. Junhui knew what he was thinking. The self-reproach resurfacing again. Before he could get into it, though, the terrain changed slightly. The pathway turned narrower and tilted at a slight incline. As such, they were forced to continue in a single line instead of side by side.

Since Wonwoo held the light, he took the lead. They proceeded carefully, Wonwoo warning him of the slippery ground. Junhui put a hand on the wall, gripping onto the cracks and crevices. It went well for a few yards, until Junhui’s foot slipped.

With a squeak, he reached forward and grabbed onto Wonwoo’s back. “Sorry!” he said right away, letting go.

But Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, he held out his hand for the other to take.

With pink cheeks, Junhui silently slid his fingers over and took him up on his offer silently. He couldn’t help smiling to himself. Not only because of the handholding, but because of the unspoken promise. It was amazing how reassured he felt right away, knowing he had someone he could hang on to when he needed it. That Wonwoo would be there to catch him if he fell. The fact that they were going down a dark tunnel with him leading the way with the light only made this all the more amusing.

Without a word, Wonwoo determinately and confidently marched on. Before too long, they spotted a light. They emerged into a large cave, brightly lit by what Junhui assumed to be magical invisible candles. The walls appeared red-orange in the yellow light, a bit dusty. There were dips and bulges, crevices and cracks in the walls, stalagmites created by time and forming giant columns, and hidden corners.

As Wonwoo previously said, there was nothing but a large mirror sitting on a pedestal. Upon close inspection, Junhui noted that the mirror looked very clean. As dusty as the cave was, not even a speck of the red dirt accumulated around it. Odd.

In any case, Wonwoo was right. It made no sense for the riddles to guide them to a mirror and nothing else. There was no other clue. The mirror itself—somehow—must be the key. But the key to what?

While Junhui circled the mirror, trying to decipher any hidden code, Wonwoo had been assessing the walls, hoping to find instructions or something of the sort. Unfortunately, he returned empty-handed.

“What are we going to do?” Junhui asked, dejected.

“I don’t know.” Wonwoo sighed.

“Did you inspect the mirror? It looks so new; it’s weird.”

They walked closer to the mirror, and Junhui knelt down in front of it, studying the stand keeping it upright.

“Yeah, I was wondering the same thing when I came in earlier, too. How could it be in such good shape down here? And why is it so big?” Wonwoo wondered out loud. The two poured over the ornate frame of the mirror.

After a while, Junhui’s muscles began to cramp from the awkward angle. He sat up and rolled his neck. He stared up at the ceiling, letting a low breath of appreciation. As he spun around, he noticed something indistinct on the wall above normal eye level. He squinted.

“Wonwoo,” he called, not taking his eyes off the spot. “Is that… writing?”

When the other looked to where he pointed, his brows rose in surprise. “Yeah.” He approached the wall to study it closer. “It’s a mirror image.”

“Oh! That’s why the mirror is here, then! So we can use it to read the message!”

“Mm.” Returning to his original spot, Wonwoo turned the stand this way and that, trying to get the mirror to point at the wall in order for them to read. Since it was so big and heavy, it took a bit of effort maneuvering it. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Junhui began to read, “‘Drop here a memory of the past. Let go of the weight, don’t make her wait. Look beneath the surface if you wish to pass.’”

“What?” Puzzled, Wonwoo walked back to the mirror, brows furrowed.

“Who does it refer—” His question cut off, when something appeared on the surface of the mirror. It only lasted a second, fading much too quickly for Junhui to catch it. Yet when he turned to Wonwoo, the latter’s face had turned ashen. “Are you okay?”

No sooner had his question been posed that a loud rumbling rolled under their feet. An earsplitting explosion shook the whole cave, nearly knocking them off-balance. They whipped around only to see the entrance quickly closing up.

Wonwoo yanked him toward the gap, but before they could reach it, rocks from the ceiling rained down, creating a large and thick cloud of dust, making it impossible for them to see more than a few feet head. Wonwoo, still holding onto Junhui’s wrist, pulled him to his chest and ran for immediate shelter from the collapsing ceiling. Junhui covered his head, one hand gripping onto Wonwoo’s shirt to keep him close.

Once the earthquake subsided, the pair gingerly let go of each other in order to assess the situation. Junhui coughed and rubbed at his stinging eyes. With a wave of his hand, Wonwoo dispersed the red cloud and scowled at the blocked off entrance.

“Are you okay?” Junhui asked, looking over him to make sure he didn’t get hit by any piece of debris. Fortunately, he found no traces of blood nor bruises.

Wonwoo huffed a sigh, assessing him, too. “I’m fine. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, but…” He gazed off toward the blocked off exit.

Not commenting, Wonwoo stalked off the wall, scrutinizing it in a desperate attempt to find a way to get it open again. Junhui watched helplessly as Wonwoo ran his hands over the surface, eyes shifting from gold to silver.

Frustrated and angry, Wonwoo pushed his hair back, spitting out phrases no one should be allowed to say, no less a prince. He marched a few paces away, scowling at the wall. Suddenly, he threw his arm back and shot a bright stream of light. It collided with the target so violently, the ground shook again. Junhui jumped, reflexively covering his head.

Toward the back of the cave, stalactites crashed to the ground, the sound echoing hauntingly around them. Wonwoo stood rigid facing the wall, waiting for the smoke to clear to see if his action had made any difference. Junhui also waited with bated breath. However, the wall still stood. Not even a tiny crack had formed. With the weight of the world stacked on his shoulders, Wonwoo dragged himself to the wall and sank to the ground. He closed his eyes and breathed out.

Cautiously, Junhui approached and took a seat next to him. Wonwoo didn’t even seem to notice him, silver eyes gazing straight ahead, devoid of hope. Junhui watched him quietly, worry knotting his stomach. Of course he was scared of being stuck here, but he believed that the two of them could find a solution. Before that, though, he had to make sure Wonwoo was okay.

He wanted to touch him. To reach past the perfect and beautiful Prince Jeon Wonwoo of Serenity Woods and comfort Jeon Wonwoo, the man. The one suffering and holding himself responsible for everything imaginable. The innocent soul who came to Junhui in his time of need.

“Wonwoo,” he whispered softly. Kneeling next to him, he gently took his hand into both of his. “Wonwoo, please look at me.”

Tilting his head, Wonwoo watched him with anguish. “I’m sorry, Junnie. I should have sent you home while I still had the chance.”

“No!” he exclaimed, squeezing his hand tighter. “This was my decision, remember? And—and, we’ll get out of here. I mean, we’re not dead or hurt. We’ll figure something out. We just gotta put our heads together and think!”

Wonwoo shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. “You don’t understand.”

Before Junhui could react, he shook off the boy’s hands and pushed himself to his feet. Junhui’s hands fell limply into his lap as he stared up him, hurt and confusion swirling in his chest.

“I wonder…” Wonwoo began, turning his back on Junhui. “I wonder if you’d still feel so compelled to comfort me if you knew that you were touchinga murderer?”

Junhui sucked in a breath, eyes widening. “What?” The word tumbled out, even quieter than a whisper. Admittedly, he did recoil at the thought. But more out of shock and disbelief than fear.

Although his reaction was minute, Wonwoo still picked up on it. He flashed another dark smile. “Thought so.”

“It’s not true!” Junhui protested. “You’re just trying to deflect again!”

“It is true, princess.” Turning around, his silver eyes gazed down at Junhui without an ounce of life. They were cold enough that they elicited a shiver to run down the boy’s spine. And yet they held so much remorse and pain, Junhui’s heart squeezed. Face ashen, Wonwoo stated, “I am responsible for the death of Princess Lianna Warwick of Everett.”

The sheer shock of his confession knocked the wind out of Junhui. His jaw dropped, his brain scrambling to understand. His first thought was to deny the statement. No matter how much Wonwoo despised Warwick, he wouldn’t kill someone else as revenge. Junhui gripped his knees, conjuring up enough courage to protest once more, but Wonwoo cut off his attempt by walking a few steps away.

Voice tight, he recounted, “It happened over the autumn of my eighth year, back when Serenity Woods, Everett, and Glorydust were still united as the coalition of the three most powerful nations in the realm. Princess Lianna had been ill from a young age, and no doctor nor healers could help her. No one could even provide an explanation for why her health kept deteriorating day by day. Since I have healing abilities, it was only natural that she was given to me as a responsibility. In addition to saving a life, our involvement would also serve to strengthen the alliance between Everett and Serenity Woods. I didn’t understand the importance. I was young and stupid.”

Wonwoo walked to the wall, running his hand along the lines, and momentarily stopped talking. Everything was very quiet when suddenly, he slapped his hand flat against the wall. A bright purple burst of energy shot out of his palm, and he pressed it into the rocks. Junhui gasped as the wall began to glow. The light squeezed through all the nooks and crevices, causing the whole surface to shine. Wonwoo panted from the sheer effort to maintain the flow steady, the light pulsing in time with his breath. Shutting his eyes, he forced his powers to obey him.

The ground shook again. Junhui jumped to his feet, eyes darting around, watching out for rocks that could fall on them again.

A pained grunt pulled his attention away.

The wall dimmed, and Wonwoo staggered back. He didn’t succeed. Not that Junhui cared at the moment. He ran over, ready to catch him, but Wonwoo pushed him away, leaning on the closest boulder instead. Sweat dripped down from his temples, and his breath was labored. Sitting on the rock, he flexed his hand, controlling his breathing. Once he regained composure, he continued in the same even and emotionless tone.

“I was supposed to come visit her everyday to offer her some of my magic and to keep her company. But she was almost ten years older than me, and we weren’t allowed to play or go anywhere outside of her room. Guards were posted at every door to ensure their princess wouldn’t disappear. I grew bored very early on. As time went by, I began to make excuses, showing up later and leaving early. Eventually, I visited once every two days, telling myself that I’d just give her more magic to make up for it. Lianna never got angry. She even covered for me.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“The gap between my visits grew. Every time I showed up, I expected her to show changes. Perhaps then, I would have understood.” He sighed. “As it were, her condition seemed stable, so I took it for granted. I visited less and less often, foregoing my duty nearly altogether.”

With a hollow voice, he went on, “Until one afternoon when I was in the valleys, practicing dream walking. I stumbled upon Lianna’s dream; it was the strongest, the brightest of all the others. The pull emitted was beckoning me to step in, so I did. She was in full health. It was the first time I’d seen her out of her bed. She had company. The two friends talked about something pleasant, for she was laughing, nodding her head and adding to the discussion. Just when I was wondering why her dream had beckoned me, the room turned dark and cold.

“The dream was shifting into a nightmare. At that age, I did my best to stay away from nightmares, so to be stuck in one threw me off. Bewildered, I looked around, seeing the light disappear behind cracks and holes. When I searched for Lianna, she had fallen on the floor, helpless. The vitality she had displayed earlier had completely vanished. As well as her friend. She was all alone, the fear and pain reflecting in her eyes contradicted with every memory I had of her. She had never appeared weak and afraid. She always remained strong and brave throughout her illness, at least I had believed so.

“Wincing, she collected herself and fought to sit up. The room was completely deserted, not even a shadow could be seen, yet her eyes roamed the entire library, searching for someone. Then her eyes found mine and she held my gaze for a few seconds, her expression softening enough to give me a small smile. But sooner than I had time to react, books started to crash onto the floor, entire shelves collapsed. I woke up just as the chandelier dropped on her.”

Heart pounding, Junhui swallowed and tried to find his voice. He asked softly, “What happened after that?”

Although Junhui’s voice was barely audible to his own ears, Wonwoo jumped as if snapping out of the nightmare he had just retold. He blinked, eyes a little lost as he searched for Junhui.

“By the time I got to Everett, the entire castle was in a frenzy. All the staff—from maids to butlers and cooks—they all scrambled to follow orders. In that panic, no one saw me. I went to her room and found her lying in bed. She looked so much paler than the last time I saw her in person. Upon hearing my arrival, she looked toward the door. Her eyes brightened as she recognized me, and she smiled weakly.”

Wonwoo stopped, letting out a heavy sigh, then rubbed his face with his hands. Clearing his throat, he said, “She called me over and told me to grow up well. Then she closed her eyes and never opened them again. I didn’t even have the chance to beg her for forgiveness.” Shaking his head, he dug his fingers into his hair. “No matter how you look at it, I killed Lianna.”

“Wonwoo…” Junhui said softly. “You were just a child who was given too much of a responsibility to handle.”

“But I wasn’t,” Wonwoo replied sadly. “I was—I’m the Crown Prince. I’m supposed to have responsibilities and duties, but I failed. I killed her.” He sighed, tilting his head to stare at the blocked off exit. “And now we’re stuck here because of my sin.”

Confused, Junhui looked at him.

“The clue you read on the wall earlier,” Wonwoo explained. “It was about her. The reflection in the mirror briefly showed her face before the cave-in.”

Trying hard to remember what he read, Junhui scratched his head. “You think we’re stuck here as some sort of penance?” That sounded highly unlikely. “I would agree readily if the person who led us here was Warwick, as a way to get revenge. But it’s not. Your teacher led us here,” he reminded him gently.

Right now, he felt as if Wonwoo’s emotional state had gone a little off-kilter, maybe from trying to controlling his magic in order not to cause another storm. Junhui wasn’t used to being the voice of reason, but he’ll do his best in this situation. Now was truly his test to show Wonwoo that he would keep his promise. That he can help, he can be his support, instead of always relying on Wonwoo to save him.

“I don’t know anymore, Junhui,” he whispered. The fatigue and exhaustion seemingly finally taking their toll on his body. “There’s just… There’s so much in my head. I feel like it’s going to explode.” Wincing, he dropped onto another rock, cradling his head into his hands.

Unable to bear seeing him in so much distress, Junhui fought the fear of rejection and went to him. Tentatively, he reached out. His fingers paused an inch away, but at the last second, he wrapped himself around him. In his arms, Wonwoo tensed. He saw out of his periphery the way Wonwoo automatically flinched away, unwilling to show vulnerability. But Junhui refused to let go, stepping closer and hugging him to his chest.

“Please,” was all he could whisper.

Wonwoo paused. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t push him away, either.

Junhui sighed, a small smile reaching his lips despite the current predicament. One small victory. The two stayed quietly like that for a few beats, long enough for Wonwoo’s agitation to level out. His heartbeat lowered, and his breath steadied. Junhui stroked the short blond strands above the other’s nape, short nails scratching on the skin. Eventually, Wonwoo sighed, but it sounded much less heavy.

“You’d make a good therapeutic kitty,” he commented with a little smile. He still looked tired, though, so Junhui played along in hopes of cheering him up.

He pouted. “I went from royalty to a pet? That’s not fair.”

The smile grew a bit wider, light returning to his purple eyes, enough to turn the edges a slight green. “If you stick with me, you can become a royal pet.”

“Hmm.” Junhui taped his chin, pretending to think about it. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to ask for a raincheck.”

Wonwoo chuckled under his breath, the pleasant sound fading into an exhale.

“Are you feeling better?” Junhui asked, wringing his hands as he observed him.

“Not really,” he admitted truthfully, adding, “But thank you for trying.” He took another look at the cave around them, shoulders slumping. “If push comes to shove,” he thought aloud, walking off. “I could probably manage to create an explosion powerful enough to blow the door open. But I can’t get you hurt, so if I split my powers and deplete my reserve—”

“Whoa! Hey!” Junhui ran in front of him, blocking his view with his arms. “No! You’re not going to do… any of that!”

Wonwoo looked at him cooly, brow arched.

“Look, let’s just… Let’s just take a moment to think, okay? There has to be something important we’re missing.” He caught a glimpse of the mirror in the background. “What did the message say again?” he wanted to know, pointing at the clue. “Do you remember it word or word?”

“‘Drop here a memory of the past. Let go of the weight, don’t make her wait. Look beneath the surface if you wish to pass,’” Wonwoo recited.

Junhui furrowed his brows and gnawed on his lip. After a while, he mused, “If your assumption is correct and it refers to Princess Lianna, then I think… I think the clue wants you to let go.”

“What?”

“Hear me out.” Junhui grabbed his wrist and tugged him back to the mirror. When the two of them faced it, only their reflection stared back at them. Yet Wonwoo claimed he saw her earlier. “Professor Larkin created these riddles for you to solve, because he trusts that you’ll find the magic cave and protect those rocks. He also retrieved the prophecy about you and your powers. Now I’m no expert, but wouldn’t all this guilt make it even more difficult for you to control your powers?”

Wonwoo said nothing, but at least he seemed to give Junhui’s speech some thought. He hadn’t told him to shut up, yet.

“I think Professor Larkin’s goal is for you to let go of the guilt. As tragic as it was that Princess Lianna passed away, you weren’t to blame. Prince or not, you were just a child at the time. You needed guidance. And Princess Lianna most likely understood, that’s why she never blamed you and even covered for you.” He took a breath. “The clue talks about a weight, right?” Gently nudging him to the center of the mirror, Junhui gave him an encouraging smile. “Give it a try, yeah? We’ve got nothing to lose.”

Wonwoo dragged his feet a little, although it was unclear if it was out of skepticism or reluctance to re-open the wound, but he came to stand in place, regardless. With a shaky breath, he closed his eyes and nodded minutely.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Junhui whispered, backing away. As he turned to leave, Wonwoo stopped him with a hand around his arm.

“Junnie.”

“Hm?” He tilted his head, smile soft.

“Thank you for believing me, even after everything.”

His smile grew wider, eyes warmer. “Of course. I’m always on your side.”

In response, a gentle smile appeared on Wonwoo’s face as he nodded. He turned back to the mirror, and Junhui quietly moved toward the other end of the cave.

By the large boulder next to the entrance, he took a seat and waited. Not ten seconds passed that he heard a faint but rhythmic scratching from the wall. Curious, he jumped down and headed for the source. Could it be…

“Channie?” he called hesitantly.

“Oh! Jun!” The younger’s voice slipped through, albeit very muffled. “Thank the stars I found you. Where’s Wonwoo? Are you guys okay?”

“Calm down,” Junhui quickly reassured. “We’re okay, for the most part. We aren’t injured, but we’re stuck in here. What about you?”

“I’m fine. I just followed the instructions on Wonwoo’s note, but before I got very far, I felt the earthquake. It took me forever to find my way here, only to see it blocked off. How did this happen?”

So Junhui gave him a quick rundown of the events, finishing with what Wonwoo was trying to do now.

He heard Chan let out a low whistle. “I heard about Princess Lianna, but Wonwoo had always refused to talk about it. Guess I can see why now.”

“Yeah. Even if this isn’t what the clue wants, it’ll be good for him.”

“I agree. But uh… What are we going to do if that’s not the solution?” he fretted. “Or maybe it is correct, but the cave closed off to keep Warwick from following the trail?”

Junhui could hear the unspoken question. “Don’t worry, Channie. There’s no way we’ll leave without you.”

“Thanks, but how? Are we going to have to dig a tunnel like prison fugitives?”

“Well, I do have a spoon,” he muttered, remembering one of the only two items the boys let him carry.

“That’ll take us a century!” Chan complained.

At the visual of them using spoons to dig, though, Junhui couldn’t help laughing a little. He pressed a hand over his mouth. This was highly inappropriate timing.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope!” Junhui shook his head for good measure, even if Chan couldn’t see him. “Nothing. Just… Thinking.”

At that second, another earthquake shook the ground. Both boys gasped and scrambled away, ready to take cover. A huge cloud of red dust billowed in the air. Junhui pulled his sleeve over his mouth and nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Junhui!” Wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise. “Are you okay?”

“I—” He took in a breath to shout back, but he inhaled the dust and coughed, bending over his knees.

“Hey hey hey.” A firm hand came to rest on his back, then another cupped his elbow and tugged him closer. “It’s fine. I found you.”

Junhui gripped at the back of his shirt, hiding his face into the crook of his shoulder. “What… What happened?”

“Wonwoo?” Chan coughed. His voice sounded unobstructed. “Jun? Are you guys okay?”

“Chan!” The older two exclaimed.

Wonwoo waved a hand in the air, clearing away most of the cloud. Small pebbles still fell from the ceiling, and the ground hadn’t completely stopped shaking, but they managed to see that the entrance was slowly opening. A jolt of relief and joy shot through Junhui’s body. At the same time, they saw Chan’s arm waving through the gap.

“Careful!” Wonwoo warned.

Thankfully, the gap gradually widened, and before long, Chan managed to squeeze through. He propped his hands on his knees and panted.

“Oh, man. That was close.”

“Are you hurt?” Wonwoo walked over to check on him.

“Nah.” He shook his head. “But let this be a lesson for us all. Next time you go exploring, we all go together.”

Wonwoo smiled faintly, agreeing. “Deal.”

Walking a bit deeper into the cave, Chan tilted his head and spun in a small circle. “Wow… This is… really something, isn’t it? Oh! Is that the mirror in question?”

Wonwoo’s brow creased as he looked at his cousin. “How do you know?”

“Jun caught me up earlier. Boy, am I glad we didn’t have to dig with spoons!” Excited, he ran over to study the mirror.

“Spoons?”

Junhui shook his head. “Never mind. So…” he trailed off, eyes flickering from the mirror to Wonwoo. “Did you…”

“Yeah,” the other said slowly. “I think so. I mean, the fact that the entrance opened again is a good indicator. You were correct.”

“As nice as it feels to be proven right, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” He smiled, and Wonwoo reciprocated.

“Um, guys?” Chan called. “I don’t know if I’m just a sucker for obvious clues, but…” he left the sentence hanging in favor of waving the pair over.

The two quickly made their way over, and Chan pointed to the writing on the mirror. _Appearances can be deceiving. Look below the surface._

“That wasn’t there before,” Junhui said. He looked over his shoulder. “Did this appear afterward?”

“I’m not sure,” Wonwoo shook his head. “Right after I finished, the earthquake happened, and I ran to find you.”

“Hm.”

The three of them stared at the mirror, seeing themselves. All three pairs of eyes roamed around expectantly. Nothing stood out that could fit with the clue.

“What if there’s another layer of magic covering it?” Chan wondered. “Obviously, if messages can appear on it, it can’t be a plain old mirror.”

Junhui nodded in agreement. “A magic mirror.” Idly, he wondered if it had the same powers as the one in the fairytale. “Mirror mirror on the wall, show us… your secrets big and small.”

Silence.

“Well, it was worth a try,” he muttered, chuckling sheepishly. In the reflection, he saw Chan lift his hand to pat his shoulder.

“We might need a more direct approach,” the younger said. “Wonwoo, why don’t you try to shoot at it?”

“What? A plain mirror will shatter, and a magical one will send the hit back at us.”

“Yeah, but the clue says that appearances are deceiving.” Chan straightened out and searched around. He pointed at a row of rocks in the corner. “Let’s take cover over there, in case the shot does get flung back.”

Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, but decided to try out it out anyway. The three of them huddled close together, peeking over the jagged rocks.

“Ready?” Wonwoo asked, forming a ball of energy in his hand.

“Ready!” the others answered right away.

Wonwoo fired the purple sphere toward the mirror. The projectile flew straight at the target, and Junhui peeked between his fingers. It neither shattered the glass nor bounced back. Instead, it flew right through the mirror, disappearing without a trace.

“Wow!”

“I knew it! Ha!” Chan jumped up and cheered. He slapped his cousin’s shoulder. Let’s go take a look!”

The group filed out of hiding and approached the pedestal once more. Chan ran his fingers over the glass.

“It’s like nothing even touched it,” he said. “It just swallowed it all up.”

“Maybe it works by absorbing energy,” Wonwoo took a guess. He sent another shot through it, a bit smaller this time since they stood so close.

The surface rippled just as the ball fused with it. “Hey!” Junhui exclaimed. “Did you see that? Something appeared right when it sucked the light.”

“Yeah! I saw it, too!” Chan agreed. “Try to pour your powers at a steady stream, Wonwoo.”

He took a step forward and pressed his hand on the mirror. “Get ready to run if anything happens.”

At the warning, Chan and Junhui took on a defensive position, but kept their eyes glued to the mirror. A pretty purple glow began to spread from Wonwoo’s palm. First, it surrounded the entire mirror, then slowly the surface began to glow. But that wasn’t what caused Junhui’s jaw to drop.

In the next second, the glassed turned liquid, rings and ripples appeared. A very large room was revealed.

“What the—”

“That’s—”

The cousins’ shock cut off their exclamations as they widened their eyes and leaned into the reflection.

“That’s the library!” Chan called out at last, mouth agape and eyes as round as marbles.

“We have to go there next?” Wonwoo wondered aloud.

While the two studied the scene, Junhui couldn’t curb his fascination and curiosity. He crept closer and carefully poked the very edge of the mirror, just to see how it’d feel. Were the ripples just an effect, or did the glass really turn liquid? With a startled squeak, he yanked his hand back.

Wonwoo let go, turning to him in concern.

“My finger went through!” he explained, waving at the now normal mirror.

The others shared the same bewilderment.

Chan knocked lightly on the glass. Nothing. He pushed on it with his fingertips. Nothing. He tried to go all over the mirror, but it only yielded the same result.

“It needs my magic to work,” Wonwoo concluded. With that said, he pressed his hand over the mirror again, pouring his powers out. The same view of the library appeared. Using his free hand, Wonwoo dipped his arm through, all the way to his elbow.

“What’s on the other side?” Chan asked with no small amount of fascination.

A little perplexed, Wonwoo pulled his arm back. “Nothing. I don’t feel anything but air.” He removed his other hand and the glass solidified again. “I think that’s the answer to the riddle and the way to get out of here.”

“So the mirror is a portal?” Junhui asked.

“Looks that way.”

He winced despite himself. Since Wonwoo encountered no violent gulf of wind, that might indicate a more peaceful passing, but—“Will it lead to that library?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Most likely. That’s the Royal Library.”

“Wow! No wonder it looked ginormous,” he remarked. “Hey, so that means you _do_ live in a castle!”

“Didn’t I mention it?” Wonwoo teased, seemingly returning to himself now.

“No, I would have remembered that.”

“Ah. So does this make my offer to make you my royal pet more tempting?”

The joke was obviously referring to their little banter earlier, yet for some reason, his cheeks flushed. It really didn’t help that Chan stood next to him and gave him an odd look.

“I said I’ll think about it!” Junhui exclaimed, sliding to hide behind Chan.

Wonwoo laughed, while Chan glanced at the boy behind him.

“You guys have some really weird inside jokes.”

Wonwoo chuckled again. “Alright, let’s get going.” Reenergized, he turned around to sling a backpack over his shoulders. Chan did the same.

Since Junhui still had nothing to carry (Wonwoo had already stuffed his dresses into the backpack last night), he was left to stand around. “This could be why the mirror is so big,” he mused, assessing its height once more. Then a thought occurred to him. “Wait! If this is in the castle, what if Warwick’s men are posted there?

Chan’s eyes popped open. “You’re right. I bet they’re roaming around like roaches,” he spit out in disgust. “Anyway, one of us is going to have to go through first to check it out.” Standing tall, he volunteered. “I’ll go. Wonwoo needs to stay to keep the portal open, and Jun isn’t familiar with the place.”

Pressing his hand against the mirror once more, Wonwoo observed the vision with rapt attention. His purple eyes were sharp as they took in every detail of the room, searching for something.

“Here goes nothing,” Chan called out as he got closer to the surface, about to put his head through the water-like mirror.

“Hold on a second.”

Wonwoo grabbed Chan’s shoulder, stopping him. Chan shot him a surprise look, then glanced over at Junhui. Junhui shook his head, not knowing what was up.

“You don’t need to do that.” Wonwoo smiled, purple eyes shiny with satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congratulations to everyone who guessed correct at the riddle! hahaha
> 
> sorry, this chapter was not very eventful... but next time should be better!
> 
> poor wonu 😔 i keep giving him such painful backstories... but he's strong, so he'll pull through! especially with junnie at his side (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و
> 
> chan is such a smart kid lol. good thing wonhui have him!
> 
> next time, our heroes are going to serenity woods castle! 😱 stay tuned! haha
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! take care, everyone!  
> xoxoxo


	12. Don't Judge a Book by Its Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WonHuiChan figure out the next riddles inside the Royal Library.

“Take a close look at the shelf right there.” Wonwoo pointed at the reflection. Carefully, he pressed his palm tightly over the mirror, then pulled away slowly. The purple glow remained and continued to feed the mirror even when he didn’t touch it. “Notice anything?” He stepped to the side to let the other two huddle together and observe.

Sharing a puzzled look with Chan, Junhui turned his attention to the vision and tried to see what Wonwoo meant. At first, he didn’t see anything unusual. Just old books and a thin slant of sunlight, most likely pouring in from a window nearby. He opened his mouth, about to voice his opinion, when the light shifted. His eyes widened in surprise, and he snapped his head up.

“Woah!” Chan exclaimed next to him.

Wonwoo nodded. “The mirror isn’t showing a still image. We’re seeing the library in real time.” Turning to Junhui, he added, “Basically, a surveillance camera.”

Junhui gaped, while Chan scowled.

“Do you think someone could have used this mirror to spy on us?”

“You mean Warwick?”

The younger shrugged. “Anyone who could have access to this place.”

“Considering all the trouble we went through to get here, it seems unlikely,” Wonwoo said. “Moreover, I doubt even Lee Jihoon knew that his old storm shelter could lead to this cave, much less have the powers to operate all the magical locks. So it’s hard to imagine he could have told anyone. He only guided us to help us wait out the guards.”

The reassurance seemed to appease Chan, and he relaxed minutely.

Wonwoo scanned their surrounding one last time. “Make sure you’ve got everything. We won’t be able to return here easily.”

“Yep.”

“Yes,” Junhui nodded enthusiastically. “I wouldn’t want to forget the very important spoon that’s been entrusted to my care.”

Chan cracked up, and Wonwoo offered an indulgent smile. “Okay, Princess Sassy.”

Junhui made a face and laughed, glad that Wonwoo returned to his playful self.

As the cousins retrieved their backpacks, Junhui set his eyes on the giant library through the reflection. From the view shown, the portal looked like it would drop them from the ceiling onto a deck with metal railings. He straightened and rolled his shoulders, hopping in place for a few seconds. Since school ended, he hadn’t done any real physical activity aside from waiting on tables. He really hoped he remembered how to land correctly and not twist an ankle or something. How embarrassing… not to mention bothersome.

“Ready?” Wonwoo asked, walking back with Chan.

“Are we really going to drop from the ceiling?” Junhui pointed a shaking finger toward the reflection.

“It’ll be fine.” Smirking, he remarked, “Don’t cats always land on their feet anyway?”

Junhui swatted at his arm. “I’m serious. It looks really high.”

“There’s a cabinet right there,” Wonwoo gestured toward the bottom of the mirror. “Once through the portal, just aim for that. From there, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

Now that he noticed the furniture, he felt much better. “Oh. You really should have mentioned it beforehand.”

“Maybe I wanted to see if you could really land on your feet no matter what,” Wonwoo teased, and Junhui pretended to scowl at him. “Alright. I’m going to have to go last so I can close the portal, so you guys decide who goes first.”

“Me!” Chan’s arm shot up. “I’ll go.”

Before Junhui could speak his agreement, shadows flittered across the mirror. He whipped around, grabbing Chan’s shoulder to stop him. “Wait!” he hissed, heartbeat hitching. “I just saw something.”

Wonwoo moved to the front defensively, brows creased. The other two peeked over his shoulders. Peering into the reflection, they saw indistinct silhouettes appearing on the bottom level of the library.

“Do you think they can see us from the other side?” Chan whispered.

“I have no idea, but we can’t be too careful,” his cousin whispered back.

As they waited for any more movement to occur, Junhui glanced at Wonwoo. His jaw was clenched, his eyes a dark violet. Either he was concerned that Warwick’s men occupied his home, or he was hoping for a survivor from Serenity Woods to have taken refuge within the castle walls.

Not too long after their sudden appearance, the person in the shadows moved further into the room, followed by another, and the little group was able to see them over the railing of the deck.

As recognition registered, a cold sweat broke across Junhui’s entire body. In front of him, Wonwoo turned rigid, back ramrod straight, hands fisted tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Chan gasped.

“Where are they?” Warwick’s deep and acidic voice demanded.

Even someone as defiant as his sister drew back at his commanding tone. “Still in Everett, somewhere.” It still amazed Junhui to hear such a soft and sultry voice come froman evil person.

“Tell me something, Aldith. How can three children escape a brigade of fifty armed men?” Warwick questioned. Although whether his facial expression reflected any anger was uncertain, it was undoubtable that fury and frustration colored his tone.

His inquiry was met with silence.

“Find them. Alive. I don’t want months’ worth of work to come to waste.”

“Yes, Brother.” She lowered her head. “Where do you think we should start?

“Put up posters and rewards for Wonwoo’s boy-toy. Wherever the brat goes, the Prince is sure to soon follow.”

Right then, Wonwoo had to be physically restrained by his cousin and Junhui as his expression darkened, eyes flashing silver. Were it not for the boys by his sides, he would have lunged at the reflection.

“How are we to explain it to the people?” Aldith asked.

“They all want to see the precious Prince safely home with his parents, don’t they?” Warwick mocked. “Reveal to them the reason why he ran off to another world. Denounce the nymph who stole him away and caused the massive panic. I’m sure the people will be more than happy to apprehend him and free Wonwoo from his lapse in judgement.”

Chan’s eyes flickered from the mirror to Junhui. “Is that supposed to be referring to you?” he whispered.

Junhui rolled his eyes. “I guess so.” Leave it to Warwick to make up outlandish lies. As if Junhui had any control over what Wonwoo did and where he went.

Unable to hold back, Aldith argued, “But we already gave Lee Jihoon the WANTED posters for—”

“Then design new ones and be sure that this story holds up,” Warwick interrupted, huffing an annoyed breath. “Do whatever it takes to catch them.”

A clatter coming from somewhere else in the castle distracted the evil siblings. They turned toward the source. Sharing a look, they cautiously left the library, their figures disappearing from view. The sound of the huge doors closing behind them echoed throughout the large space.

Not missing a beat, Wonwoo shook off the loose restraints around his arms. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, what?” Both Chan and Junhui spun to stare at him with big eyes.

“Are you insane?” Chan exclaimed. “How do we know they won’t return?”

“We don’t,” Wonwoo agreed calmly. “But we can’t hide here forever, either.”

“Yeah, but…” The younger sighed, conflicted, gaze flickering from his cousin to the mirror.

“The castle is home. We’ll have the advantage in both terrain and power. He can pretend all he wants, lie to himself and think he’s conquered the place, but we both know he can’t control it. Not yet, anyway.”

Junhui still didn’t understand very well, but from what he had heard, Wonwoo must be referring to the raw power of the land itself. A magic wielder could practice magic anywhere, but they were the most powerful on their homeland. And that applied especially to people born from Royal blood. Warwick might have experience and manpower on his side, but when on Serenity Woods soil, Wonwoo held the advantage.

Convinced, Chan slowly nodded, but added, “Once I go through, I’ll lock the doors from within just in case.”

“Good thinking.”

Chan tightened the straps of the backpack. “I’m going.”

“Be careful,” Junhui said, and the younger give him a thumbs-up.

With caution, he grabbed the frame of the mirror and slipped his foot through the liquid surface. It didn’t look uncomfortable, based on his relaxed expression. Then in one swift move, he slipped through. The ripples radiated across the surface like a rock thrown in a calm lake. Wonwoo and Junhui waited until the image cleared, showing the library, along with a quickly disappearing Chan.

“Your turn,” Wonwoo said. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered, thankful that this portal did not involve scary whirlwinds and free falls. Gripping the frame just like Chan did, he looked over his shoulder. “You’ll join us right away, right?”

The tense crease between Wonwoo’s brows smoothed for a moment as he smiled at Junhui and nodded. “As soon as I close the portal, I’ll be right behind you.” Caressing Junhui’s cheek, his smile turned teasing. “Wherever you are, I’m sure to follow, right?”

At the mention of Warwick’s plan, Junhui stomach dropped. “Um, about what he said, if I start to become a hindrance—”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Junhui insisted.

Expression softening, he nodded. “I know,” was all he said. “Come on. Let’s get going before Chan starts to wonder if something went wrong.”

Junhui didn’t like to leave things hanging in the air, but he knew Wonwoo was right. Now was not the right time to discuss it. So with resolve, he turned back to the mirror and imitated what the saw Chan do earlier.

The feeling of that liquid surface touching him was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was like a blanket of water rolling over his body, yet when his legs emerged on the other side, they were dry. The blanket was cool against his skin and light as silk. He remembered the cabinet, and hopped on top of the sturdy furniture. So far so good. Chan hadn’t returned from locking the doors, yet. Junhui looked down from his perch to the ground, wincing internally.

He really hoped he wouldn’t twist his ankle. Letting out a shaking breath, he jumped. Thankfully, he landed on his feet without breaking anything, but the momentum caused him to wobble a bit. The heel of his shoe caught on the edge of the rug, and he stumbled, hitting the floor with an _oof!_

“Ow…” he whined, rubbing his sore bottom.

Just then, Chan appeared from somewhere—Junhui was too distracted by the pain to notice. He approached, concern and slight amusement mixed in his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Junhui sighed, standing up. “Only disappointed that I’m not as agile as I used to be.”

Chan chuckled. “You sound like an old man.”

“I _am_ old.” Draping himself over the boy’s back, he feigned more whines and cries. “I’m so old, my bones hurt. Please, help me, young man.”

Chan rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation at Junhui’s antics. Still, he put up with him anyway, and Junhui grinned happily.

They both looked up as another swishing sound was heard overhead. Now that Junhui looked at the ceiling above the tall cabinet, there really was no way of seeing a portal there. The ceiling was perfectly intact and smooth. So he was rather startled when Wonwoo jumped through.

“Were you able to close it?” Chan asked.

Wonwoo nodded, hopping down to the floor. “Yeah, we’re all good.”

The three of them walked out toward the railing of the deck to look at the bottom floor. Junhui let out an awed “Wow!” as he stared at the shiny and smooth tiles. He had never seen peach-colored floor tiles like these before, but then again, he had never been in a (magical?) castle. Part of him still couldn’t quite believe it, to be honest. Grabbing onto the metal rod, he leaned over and stared up, seeing a few more floors above them.

“How may stories does this library have?” he wondered.

“Thirteen,” Wonwoo asked, then chuckled when Junhui made a shocked sound.

“Wow…” Apparently that was all he could manage to say in response, his brain too busy taking in everything around him. Since from his position he could see the ground level best, he returned his gaze there.

On the left, a big fireplace and mantel stood proudly. Overhead, paintings of landscapes embellished the look of this magnificent library. Junhui’s eyes climbed up the ornate walls to the ceiling where a glorious crystal chandelier with white candles hung in the center of dozens of arches coming from different corners and walls of the room. One wall was made entirely of windows, from the very bottom floor to the upmost. Even with most of the curtains drawn, the atmosphere was light and bright, very welcoming. 

Moving along the majestic ceiling, Junhui admired the ornate design and arches, wondering how such beauty could exist. Nothing was too ostentatious or flamboyant. Every curve, every line, every decision was well thought out, but never over the top or gaudy. He wished he had his phone to take pictures.

His head swam as he took in all the floors and the books they must contain. There must be as many books as there are people living in the universe. That belief only intensified when Wonwoo called out to him, and he looked back to see him and Chan already moving further into the rows.

“This portion alone must hold at least the same amount of books of one public library,” he commented as he followed them through the maze of hallways.

“I got lost in here all the time,” Chan shared. “And spent the entire night here once, too.”

“Oh, geez. How did you find your way out?”

“He started to scream and cry,” Wonwoo laughed, recollecting the memories.

“Hey, I was three,” Chan tried to argue. “I didn’t know how to read the signs.”

Wonwoo ignored him as he continued, “All of a sudden, the whole palace hears this ear-splitting wailing coming from the West wing, so everyone rushes over. As the door opened, the cries were almost impossible to bear. I actually thought some kind of banshee had gotten into the castle.”

“Rude!”

“Anyway. We found him pretty quickly after that.”

Junhui chuckled, turning to Chan and ruffled his hair. “Didn’t anyone look for him when he first went AWOL?”

“After he learned to walk, he would disappear constantly,” Wonwoo said. “Drove everyone crazy, until we figured out that it never took more than half an hour before his deadly screams would alert us of where he went.”

“Awww,” Junhui cooed and bumped into Chan’s side.

The younger pretended to sulk, turning his nose up. “Wonwoo is lucky he’s older than me. Otherwise, I’d be telling embarrassing baby stories about him, too.”

“That’s too bad,” Junhui said. “How about embarrassing teenage stories?”

Wonwoo whipped around so fast, Junhui nearly yelped. “There were none.”

Junhui found that hard to believe, and he turned to Chan with a skeptical look. The younger muffled a laugh. “You heard the man. There were none.”

“Aw, come on!”

“Sorry, Jun.” Chan shrugged. “He has way more dirt on me than I do on him. The curse of being born years later,” he muttered.

Satisfied, Wonwoo relaxed. Junhui was still slightly disappointed, but he’ll let it go. “So where are we going, anyway?” he asked.

“While you guys were stuck in that cave,” Chan started, “I killed time by figuring out the next riddle.”

“Really? You two are on a roll today. What is it again?”

Chan laughed. “Thanks, but it was really easy. For once. ‘I need food and air to survive, but I consider water poison. I can bring you warmth or burn you. Who am I?’ Fire is the only thing that fits.”

“I’m amazed there was such a simple riddle in the book,” Junhui commented.

“Yeah.” Chan laughed in agreement. “Anyway, since the previous riddle led us to the library, I figured that we must be looking for a book. So now, we’re going to the F section.”

Junhui nodded in appreciation for the younger’s effort and work.

The farther they walked through the halls and bookshelves, the more he noticed the absence of any light source. It wasn’t to say that it was dark, very far from it. The shelves held this strange and bright glow to them, making it very easy to see the titles along the spines. Even with the lack of windows, lanterns or any kind of electrical lighting, the place still appeared so bright. After unsuccessfully finding a light source, he shrugged it off and attributed it to magic. He spent his time letting his eyes roam over the insane collection of books.

As far as he could tell, they were in the E section right now. Each row of books looked so different, ranging from paperback to hardcover. Leather, thick cardboard, flimsy sheets. Big, small, medium. Thick and slim. With this many copies, who could possibly read all of them in one lifetime?

Everything was muffled, even the sound of their footsteps on the carpeted floor. So when his stomach growled, it sounded thunderous to his ears. Flushing, he clutched his tummy in embarrassment. Thankfully, Chan was walking ahead, so he didn’t hear. Not the same could be said for his cousin, though.

Wincing, Junhui looked next to him to see Wonwoo holding back a grin.

“Hungry?” Without waiting for a response, he swung his backpack around and reached in. He handed Junhui a folded plaid handkerchief then threw another pack into Chan’s hands.

“Thank you,” Junhui said and opened the package to reveal three chocolate chip cookies. He extended them out to him, but the latter shook his head.

“You didn’t get any breakfast this morning,” Wonwoo said.

“Neither did you,” Junhui retorted. “When did you even get them? Or can this magical backpack also bake?”

He laughed. “If only. No, this morning, when I was checking around the antique shop. I grabbed something for myself, too. So eat up.”

Nodding, Junhui munched on the delicious cookies happily.

“What do you expect we’ll see once we get there?” Chan wondered out loud, finishing his snack. He looked over his shoulder at the older two.

“Get where?” Junhui was confused. Did Chan mean get to the stone cave? Or to the F section? Or more precisely to the book that would answer the riddle?

When Chan shot him an odd look, he elaborated. “Oh,” the boy laughed in response. “I mean the book. I hope we’ll find something cool, more along the lines of the mirror and less like the egg. That was just lame.”

“‘Near impossible’ is what I’d call the egg,” Junhui muttered. “But in any case. I think your guess is better than mine. I haven’t even been here. I don’t know what to expect out of any of these books.” He waved his fingers over the volumes as they passed.

“We don’t have much of an advantage, either,” Wonwoo said. “We may have grown up here, but like you assessed earlier, it’d take a lifetime to go through all of these shelves entirely.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Junhui nodded, but something nagged at him a little. Did he speak out loud earlier when he commented about the amount of books and how long it’d take to read them all? He’d need to watch himself in the future. He wouldn’t want to accidentally blurt out something embarrassing instead of just thinking it.

Up ahead, they entered a somewhat secluded corner of the hallway, and Chan turned to face forward again.

“Here we are!” he announced. “The F section.”

“Indeed it is,” Wonwoo said under his breath, eyes flickering across the shelves.

“Hold on a second,” Junhui interrupted. “How are the books arranged here? By authors?” The cousins nodded. “Then how we are supposed to find information about ‘fire’?” Junhui spun around in a circle and lifted his arms in the air. “I’m confused,” he admitted.

“Don’t worry, Jun. I got it all covered.” Chan walked to the shelf and held out a thick book, as much as three dictionaries. With one lungful, he blew hard on the cover, sending dust flying. “This is the catalogue. We’ll find the answer in no time.”

Junhui eyed the thick spine apprehensively as Chan flipped through the pages in search of ‘fire’ as a keyword. Wistfully, he missed computers from back home.

After a while, Chan managed to jot down all the authors who wrote anything relating to fire, then he handed Junhui and his cousin a slip of paper—their assignment, no doubt. Each piece of paper contained about ten names to look up, along with the titles of the books.

“Good luck!” Chan wished, turning to head off.

“Wait! Hold on.” Junhui grabbed his elbow. “How do we tell each other if we found something?”

“How about coming back here in three hours?” Wonwoo proposed. “If you find something before the three hours are up, just whistle.”

“I don’t know how to whistle,” Junhui said. “Not well, at least.”

“Me, neither,” Chan added.

“Okay…” Wonwoo debated. “So we won’t whistle. Just snap, then.”

“Snap?” Junhui repeated, incredulous. “I admit that I know very little, but are there hidden microphones or sensor chips around or something?”

Next to him, Chan eyed him like a lunatic speaking in foreign tongues.

Wonwoo poked his forehead. “No.”

Pouting, Junhui rubbed at the spot.

“Trust me. It’ll work. Any more questions?” When the others shook their heads, he nodded. “Good. Let’s get to work.”

Two hours, fifteen minutes, and three quarters of the bookshelves later, Junhui still had nothing. In his perusing, he encountered topics like: cooking with fire, eating fire, dancing with fire, controlling fire, culturing fire, and conserving fire. Even a detailed history of the first fire comet, many retellings of the Fire God, along with records of fire disasters, the times fire spells caused havoc/miracles. All very interesting reads, but none that pertained to their purposes.

He threw another hardcover book in the “not it” pile. The only pile, other than the “to read” pile. He didn’t want to summon fire dancers and learn how to use their powers to control the weather. Although he was not sure how successful the ritual was, seeing as he had yet to see anyone dressing up in flamboyant outfits and screaming at the sky to move clouds. _Weird…_

With a tired groan, he pressed a hand over his sore neck and rubbed the muscles. After the first hour, he had decided to accomplish his task sitting flat on the carpeted floor, making it easy now to just sprawl out like a wilted starfish. Another groan slipped past his lips, his aching muscles gradually unlocking to mold to the floor. He closed his dry eyes, rubbing at them.

“Any luck?” Wonwoo popped out behind one of the shelves, causing the boy on the floor to startle, an embarrassing squeak escaping right before Junhui could press his hands over his mouth. Wonwoo laughed, and Junhui pouted.

“Not funny,” he whined. “And no. Unless you want to learn how to make fire candy.” With a chuckle, he folded his hands over his stomach. “I might like really spicy food, but even I have to draw a line at literally eating fire.”

Responding with a soft laugh, Wonwoo walked fully into the aisle, throwing a glimpse at the empty shelves and the books stacked on the floor next to Junhui’s knee. “Still got these to get through?” He pointed to the pile on Junhui’s right. When the latter nodded, he asked, “Want some help?”

“Please?” Junhui give him huge wet eyes and pursed his bottom lip.

Shaking his head, Wonwoo sighed at his antics, but there was a gentle smile brightening his face, so Junhui giggled to himself.

Wonwoo picked up a book and started to flip through it at a blinding speed before throwing it on the pile next to Junhui. His brows bunched in confusion as he watched him do the same thing with another book.

Wonwoo didn’t notice his stare until the third book—a little more than thirty seconds later—and asked simply, “What?”

“Do you have, like, super speed in addition to everything?”

Wonwoo shook his head, laughing. “I wish. It’s just something I mastered after a while.”

_“Super_ speed reading?” Junhui’s voice sounded skeptical even to him.

“I guess you can call it that.” He shrugged. “I love reading, but I didn’t always have time to relax and read. So, I had to make do.”

“Wow. Is that why you finished your section so quickly?” If Junhui remembered correctly, Wonwoo had a few extra names on his list, too. _Amazing!_

“Yeah.” Wonwoo nodded, picking up another book. “I hope you know how to put these back where they belong.”

Oops. Junhui winced, having honestly not thought of that. So he improvised. “Don’t you have a spell or something that would put them back in order?” He wrung his hands, still grimacing.

“You, princess, have grown so spoiled.” Wonwoo glanced at him from the top of the book he was holding. “You’re going to have a very difficult time readjusting to regular life after this is all over,” he smirked, returning his attention to the pages instead. “Wildflower Grove didn’t have magic last time I checked, hm?”

Junhui stuck his tongue out and sat up to continue the job and to mask the strange sensation that swirled in his chest. He felt strange. It had never been explicitly said, but he supposed this was just as good. This… friendship he had with Wonwoo would cease to exist once their quest was accomplished. He would return to Wildflower Grove, and Wonwoo would remain here. It wasn’t news—he always knew, deep in his heart—but to have to face reality still stung. He sighed, doing his best to expel the wave of sadness that washed through him. He’ll deal with his complicated feelings later. Right now, he had to focus.

Looking up, he stared at Wonwoo flip through the pages at top speed. He had to admit, at the risk of sounding like a nerd, it was such a cool power. He wondered how many novels he could get through in a day. Wonwoo dug through them like Junhui did with jelly snacks. Before too long, they finished.

“I think I paralyzed myself,” Junhui whined as he laid back, feeling his back stretch painfully. “Ugh.”

Behind his closed eyes, he felt movement, then he heard books being shoved and stacked. He opened one eye to see Wonwoo setting the last handful of books on the shelf. Then, literally by magic, they started to move and fly around. Wonwoo saw Junhui’s awed stare and chuckled.

“The shelves are designed to put books back in their original spot,” Wonwoo explained.

Junhui nodded just as the books stopped and stood still. “I love your world,” he said, a little dazed. Then he shook his head, adding, “Aside for the lack of phones and computers, and the whole evil king trying to kill us thing.”

Wonwoo laughed.

They still had a little less than half an hour before it was time to report back to the F section, so Junhui stayed on the floor.

“My eyes are burning,” he laughed once, pressing his closed fists over his eyes. It was mostly a result of the dust in the books and the strange lighting. Usually, he could spend a whole day reading a good book with no problem. He coughed and wiped away the tears caused by the irritation. He felt the prickling and stinging behind his eyelids now, his lashes sticking to his cheeks by the salty drops.

“You can’t be naïve enough to believe that reading about fire wouldn’t come with consequences, can you?” Wonwoo joked, and Junhui felt his shoes bumping into his as he sat down.

“Yeah, should have been more cautious about the fire burning my eyes,” he answered with a laugh, his wrists still over his face. Already, the pain in his back was receding, a numbness settled there instead. What he really needed was a good stretch, but no way was he going to stand up now that he was laying down. He didn’t want to move at all.

“Let me see. Does it hurt still?” Without waiting for an answer, Wonwoo gently pulled the boy’s arms away and stared at his eyes.

Junhui wasn’t sure what Wonwoo saw, his expression was very composed, his eyes amethyst gems. The stinging was still there, subtle, but still there. Junhui blinked at the irritation and a teardrop slid slowly down his cheek. Wonwoo cupped the side of his face and wiped the tear away with his thumb. He kept his hand there, stroking his cheek softly.

Junhui’s heart beat like drums, and a million butterflies took flight in his stomach, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It felt really nice. All quiet and tender. With Wonwoo seemingly surrounding him like a safety blanket.

He was afraid to talk, but he also didn’t want Wonwoo to hear how frantic his heart was beating for him, how shallow his breath came through.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was almost too soft to be heard when he finally gathered his courage to speak.

Keeping his unwavering gaze on him, Wonwoo asked, “What do you mean?” with the same gentle tone.

“Being here, after all these months.”

Wonwoo gave him a sad smile, one that made Junhui’s heart clench painfully. “In one word? Bittersweet.” He sighed, and Junhui waited for him to go on. “It’s like a man coming home after a long absence, only to see his house inhabited by the enemy. The memories are there, the house is still standing. He’s finally home after all this time. But everything—everyone else is gone. All he has left are the memories and guilt.”

“He had good reasons to leave, though. He shouldn’t blame himself for what happened.”

Wonwoo smiled down at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even when he resorts to lies, kidnapping and bullying to try to get back what he lost?”

“That’s a different story,” Junhui smiled at the small joke, and Wonwoo returned the gesture with more sentiment. “I know it’s in your genetic makeup to want to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Reaching up, he circled Wonwoo’s wrist with his hand. “But you’re still only human.”

Wonwoo pulled his hand from Junhui’s face, the heat of his palm leaving him. Before he could miss him too much, though, Wonwoo laid down next to him, eyes staring up at the high ceiling.

Reassured that Wonwoo wasn’t leaving, he tried to lift his spirits. “At least, I believe you are.” Junhui propped himself on his elbow and looked at him. “I mean, you _are_ human, right?” He poked at Wonwoo’s cheek, and the latter rolled his eyes, pretending to bite his finger off. “Hey!” Junhui swatted at him, prompting Wonwoo to chuckle.

“Yes, believe it or not, I am human.”

“Then you need to see that humans make mistakes,”—Wonwoo frowned—“and they have to move on. Forgiving oneself for those mistakes.”

He sighed, crossing his biceps over his strong chest. “It’s not that easy.”

“But you still did it,” Junhui said in encouragement.

He shook his head. “I asked for Lianna to find peace and forgive my childish behavior. I still carry the sin. It’s not something that can be erased. It’s not the only mistake I’ve made, either.”

“But—”

Shifting position, Wonwoo turned to face him. “I know you mean well. But tell me something, princess. How does a person—after causing grief and pain, destroying families and a whole country—forgive himself? Enlighten me because I really don’t know.” His eyes were deep purple. He wasn’t angry. He was… desperately asking for help. “How could I allow myself to do such a selfish thing?”

Junhui couldn’t give him an answer. All he could think to do was reach over and hug him. Wonwoo tensed in his hold, the first instinct to push him away and run, but Junhui squeezed tighter and burrowed his face against the other’s shoulder. Junhui didn’t have all the answers, but he wanted Wonwoo to know that he wasn’t alone. No matter what kind of mistakes he had made—no matter how lowly he thought of himself—he would still have Junhui by his side, supporting him through it all.

Junhui had no way to tell whether his sentiments got through to him, but eventually, Wonwoo stirred. One hand lifted to pat his head, long fingers combing through the red strands.

“Has your back stopped hurting?” he asked, completely changing the topic.

Junhui sighed internally, drawing back. “Yeah. I think so.”

Satisfied, he sat up and rolled his neck. “Let me see the riddle again.” Once Junhui dug it out of his pocket, Wonwoo flipped to the right page and read it again, brows creasing.

“Did you notice anything different with this one?” he asked, raising his eyes to meet the other’s.

“Not really... I actually haven’t even seen it.”

“It asks ‘Who am I?’ at the end of the riddle. We’ve been looking for the wrong kind of answer.”

“What do you mean?” Junhui knelt and peeked at the riddle.

“We looked for fire in the sense of the element, while we should have looked for it as a person.”

Faster than Junhui could ask him to clarify what he meant, Wonwoo raised his hand, ready to snap. At the last minute, though, he gestured for Junhui to do it. “Since you were so skeptical.”

Unsure, Junhui did as he asked. The sound of his fingers cut sharply through the silence, sending out a jolt of energy that pushed though the halls and radiated outward. About three seconds later, Chan was heard running toward them.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he mumbled.

Wonwoo threw him a smug look. “Of course it did.”

_One day,_ Junhui vowed, _I will find a way to resist that irritatingly attractive and confident smirk so my heart doesn’t lurch every time you flash it._

“Good luck with that,” Wonwoo whispered close to his ear.

Junhui balked. “What?”

But Wonwoo didn’t answer, because Chan just arrived, looking all too hopeful.

“You found it?” he asked, a little breathless.

Unfortunately, Wonwoo crashed through his optimism like a meteorite. “We’ve been looking for the wrong thing.”

“What? No, the answer to the riddle is fire and the previous ones guided us to the library. We have to be looking at the right—”

“We’re at the right place,” Wonwoo interrupted. “But not at the right section.”

Chan gave Junhui look to ask for an explanation, but the older shook his head in confusion, as well. Both Chan and Junhui turned to Wonwoo for clarifications.

“We’re supposed to look for a person named Fire. The riddle gives a hint about it being someone, not an object, or like we thought, a natural element.”

“So the past hours have been for nothing?” Chan groaned, all dejected. Junhui and his back pain sympathized.

“Does this section have another catalogue?” he asked, looking around.

Chan glanced to the side for a second, then walked to the back and fetched another humongous book. He blew out the dust and started going through the pages again. But once he got to the F section of the index, his shoulders drooped.

“There is no one named Fire here, either by first or last name,” he proclaimed before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Let me see that.” Wonwoo grabbed the book from Chan and continued to look. “There has to be something in here. We couldn’t have come to a dead-end.”

The boys stood aside, waiting for some good news for once. Junhui tapped his foot anxiously, fingers pulling at his lip. It was already difficult for him to stand still on a normal day. Now, he was restless enough to start climbing the shelves.

Thankfully, before he could do so and cause a disaster, Wonwoo stopped and pointed to a tiny font in the catalogue. “Got it.”

Chan sighed in relief, and Junhui returned to peek over their shoulders.

“Fyre, Angella, with a Y. The book is a collection of her work with Professor Larkin.” And with that, he and Chan sprinted to the correct shelf and came back with the book. At first glance, it didn’t look all that extraordinary.

They flipped through the pages for any sign of the next riddle or at least some type of clue. They combed through it from cover to cover, reading passages here and there with more analysis (with Wonwoo’s speed reading, it didn’t take long for him to finish the book completely). 

“It just talks about her researches, not once mentioning anything that would help us with this quest,” Chan said, taking over to examine a few pages in particular.

“Maybe we’re supposed to find her,” Junhui proposed. “You know, like actually go and see her face to face and ask for help.”

“She’s a witch. She would already have been taken by Warwick,” Wonwoo reminded him.

“Does she live in Serenity Woods?” Junhui asked and from the looks he got from them both, it was rather obvious that neither one of them knew where to find her.

“Is she even still alive?” Chan asked skeptically. “This book looks… ancient. We don’t even know how old she was when she wrote this.”

“Check to see if there’s a publication page,” Junhui instructed. Chan listened, but there was nothing printed beyond the title and author. “Was the page not printed at all or is it missing” Junhui asked.

Wonwoo grabbed the book and looked closely at the spine. “Can’t say definitively if it was never there or if Professor Larkin removed it by magic for the sake of the riddle.”

“Hmm. I guess he wants us to work a little harder before we can get to her. Hold on.” Something on the front cover looked very odd, and by ‘odd’ Junhui meant strikingly familiar. “Guys, this looks a lot like the marble floor on the ground level.”

“What?” Wonwoo came closer to check. His eyes widened in surprise then narrowed as he passed it back to Chan. “Yeah, but something’s not right.”

“We need to take a closer look at the floor,” Junhui said.

The asymmetrical shapes and patterns he saw earlier on the marble tiles resembled this illustration to the dot. Except for one corner.

Their little group moved to the landing and leaned over the railing, comparing the book cover to the design on the floor.

“I’m gonna go down to take a better look,” Chan volunteered, heading for the stairs. “Maybe there’s something on the floor that’ll be a clue.”

Wonwoo nodded.

“Why is it only one corner?” Junhui wondered as he watched Chan go. “And what has this book got to do with that floor design? I doubt this Angella Fyre lady was the designer for the Royal Library.”

“No, the artist was male,” Wonwoo said.

“Hmm.” Junhui pulled the book closer to inspect it, hoping to find some secret code written somewhere along the ridges perhaps, but he came up with just a lungful of dust. Coughing senselessly, he pulled it away again. “How can this still have so much dust left over? Ugh.” He wiped at the unshed tears. “It’s like it grew on it or something.”

“Here.” Wonwoo handed him a small handkerchief.

Junhui took it. “Thanks.” Thinking it was to clean the book one more time, he got to work.

“Uh, that was supposed to be for your eyes.” Wonwoo chuckled.

“Oh.” He stopped for a second, ears heating up, but shrugged and pretended to be unaffected. “Well, my tears can air dry. Let’s get this cover cleaned up once and for all.” He began to wipe.

Wonwoo leaned his head in, “How hard did you have to scrub to get this part so shiny? It looks spotless.”

“What?” Junhui stopped long enough to realize that the spot Wonwoo indicated was the faulty corner, the one that didn’t match the floor below. While the rest of the book remained as old and worn as it had before the cleaning, that corner was in perfect condition. It was as if someone had cut out a portion of a brand new cover and stuck it on the book. Comparing it to the floor, about six tiles composed this one corner of the cover. Junhui looked up at Wonwoo.

“Would it be too naïve to consider the bright shiny square as our clue?”

“Sometimes the most obvious choices are the correct ones.”

“Well. Here goes nothing.” Cautiously, Junhui put his finger on the square and waited. Immediately, he felt a small tingle under his fingertip, and his eyes widened. “I felt something,” he hissed. “What do I do?”

Wonwoo seemed out of words, not knowing what to expect, either.

So with a bit of trepidation, Junhui slid his fingertip across the square.

Chan’s bewildered cry downstairs made Junhui gasp in surprise, but it wasn’t as shocking as seeing the shiny square on the book cover move. This wasn’t just a book cover. It was a tile puzzle, where the pieces were slid around to form one complete picture. Upon the realization, excitement shone in his eyes, and he laughed, trying it again.

“Wonwoo, look!” He pushed on the square, making it move again, this time in another direction.

Downstairs, Chan screamed again, then he ran off. Junhui was so distracted by his discovery that he didn’t even notice until the younger boy reached the landing and ran toward them. Panting, he pointed down to the marble floor below. He was still trying to catch his breath when Junhui told him what happened.

“Look what I discovered, Channie!”

“Are you kidding me? The floor moved... the floor tiles moved. J—ju—just look!” Chan grabbed both Wonwoo and Junhui pushed on their backs.

As unbelievable as it was, no one could deny it. The tiles had changed positions. They all shifted their focus from the floor to the cover of the book.

“Try it again,” Wonwoo urged, and Junhui nodded.

As soon as he moved a square on the book, the tiles matching it slid across the floor. “Wow!”

“Geez, guys, you could have given me a warning before you tried it out,” Chan reproached, finally breathing at a normal rate.

“We didn’t know,” Wonwoo answered simply.

“So then what? Are we just supposed to move the tiles around?” Chan wondered.

Junhui tapped his finger on the spine. “Maybe that’s the challenge. Either one of you a pro at tile games?”

“Chan, wanna give it a try?” Wonwoo smiled faintly.

“I guess… But what am I supposed to do? I can’t create a picture if I don’t know what it’s supposed to look like.” With a sigh, he accepted the book, tilting his head this way and that, trying to see if he could figure out a pattern. “Here goes.”

Under their feet, they heard the creaking and rumbling of the rocks and cement as the squares made their way.

“Any idea where this is going to lead us?” Chan asked between clenched teeth after a few minutes.

“Hopefully to an answer,” Wonwoo replied glumly, as he flipped through the pages of the riddle journal.

“You mean we aren’t even sure why we’re doing this?” Chan shook his head, but still worked hard to create a pattern that would actually work. Because by now, he had found three different patterns that made the floor and the cover match, but as the boys waited, nothing happened. So he had to try again and again and again, frustration mounting the longer he went at it and failed. “How many possible designs can there be?” he gritted out. “This will never end if we can’t figure out the correct one.”

“Did you find anything useful?” Junhui asked, leaning over to check the riddles, too.

“I’m not sure,” Wonwoo hesitated. “But Professor Larkin drew a line between the current riddle and the next one, so I’m guessing they have to be linked. Moreover, there is something different about it. Here.”

He handed him the journal, and Junhui read the riddle out loud. “‘Sometimes it glitters, but often not. May be cold, or may be hot. Ever changing though the eye can't measure, concealed within are many treasures. Some find safety beneath its gate, while some may die beneath its weight. Old and broken, it brings forth life.’”

Junhui shifted his weight from foot to foot. Next to him, Chan stopped to take a break. “It has ‘it’ instead of ‘I’,” he noted.

“Yes, it sounds different. It’s like... I don’t know. It sounds like the riddle itself is telling us what to do.” Wonwoo’s eyes were a darker purple now.

“You think we’re supposed to follow that riddle to solve this one?” Junhui asked, incredulous.

Chan added, “Isn’t that a little backward?”

“We don’t have anything to lose,” Wonwoo replied.

“Okay, so where would we start? Down there?” Junhui pointed toward the railing.

Nodding, Wonwoo said, “I want to take a better look at the tiles. Maybe the answer lies there.”

On their way, Wonwoo told Chan to put the puzzle on hold for now and to stay up here to give them a bird’s eye view. “You might notice something we can’t from up-close.”

“Gotcha.” Chan flicked his wrist in a quick salute.

Junhui followed Wonwoo down the spiral staircases, gaze sweeping appreciatively over the grand library once more. Even if he spent a whole day here, he doubted that he’d get used to it.

Wonwoo’s voice snapped him out of his daze, though. “What does the first line say, Junnie?”

“Uh.” He opened the book. “‘Sometimes it glitters, but often not.’”

Wonwoo walked to the center of the room, head lowered as he scanned the tiles. A slant of sunlight flittered in from the gap in the curtains, giving him an idea. He walked further until he could spot Chan over the railing.

“Chan, can you get the curtains open for us?”

The boy gave him a thumbs-up, then ran out of view.

“While he gets that done, what’s the next line about?”

“Heat. Cold or hot.”

“Hm.” Dropping to his haunches, he placed a hand against the marble, feeling around for a few seconds. “I hope your knees are doing well, because we’re about to use them a whole lot.” With that, he knelt and began to run his hands over every inch.

Following his example, Junhui started to move in the opposite direction. His hand skimmed over the smooth surface of the stones, trying to sense the change in temperature. After a few strokes, one appeared a bit cooler. He continued down the row, coming upon a warm spot under his knees. He stopped to press his hand there. It felt like a smooth rock baked under the sun.

“Wonwoo,” he called. “We need some way to determine which ones are hot, cold, or neither. I don’t think I can remember which one is which, otherwise.”

“Right.” Wonwoo straightened up, searching around for a second. Then he walked off to one of the cabinets lining the wall. He searched through the drawers and retrieved a few rolls of colored tape. He threw them to the middle of the floor, one rolling toward Junhui’s foot.

“Tape exists here?” he exclaimed, oddly happy to see something so familiar. “Wow!”

Wonwoo huffed a laugh, holding a roll of blue tape. “Blue for cold, red for hot, green for neither.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Junhui set off to find the couple spots he had picked up, while Wonwoo laughed behind him. By the time he moved forward, a swishing sound from overhead caught his attention, and his head whipped around to see the curtains getting tugged open. Bright and warm sunshine poured through the large windows, illuminating the entire library.

“Thanks, Channie!” Wonwoo called up.

Sunlight definitely made a difference. The glittery squares shone like tiny diamonds were embedded into the stone, contrasting with the regular ones, which now appeared almost dull in comparison.

“Can you see anything from up there yet?” Wonwoo asked, craning his neck to see his cousin.

“Hold on a second.” Chan hadn’t returned to the landing yet, still running from wherever the mechanism for the curtains resided. A few seconds later, he leaned over the railing, grinning in satisfaction. “Yep! The tiles that glitter look totally different from the rest, but I still don’t know what the design is supposed to look like yet.”

“Just give us some more time,” Wonwoo said, crawling along with a roll of tape.

“No problem!”

When the two arrived at the middle of the floor, where their halves almost coalesced into one, Wonwoo asked for the next part of the riddle.

“‘Ever changing, though the eye cannot measure,’” Junhui read. “Maybe wear marks? I saw a few when I was working.”

“Me, too. But they look too deliberate to be plain ol’ wear marks.”

“You think they were added afterward?”

“Yeah.” Standing up, he went to another cabinet and dug through it until he returned with black markers. “For Chan to see from up there, we’ll have to enhance them.” He threw a marker at Junhui.

“This will be the first time I’m allowed—even encouraged—to write on the floor with a permanent marker,” he laughed, uncapping the utensil with glee.

“Mm. A once in a lifetime opportunity, indeed,” Wonwoo teased. “Get to work, princess.”

A few moments later.

“Can you see them all?” Junhui shouted up at Chan.

He wondered how the splendid floor looked like now from up there. Not only did some pieces glitter, some was covered in different colored tape, while most that some kind of weird doodle traced on.

“Perfect! I’m going to try to connect the pieces by following the design of the marker first. It might take a while,” he warned. “Be sure to stand aside.”

“We’re good!”

At their signal, Chan started to scramble the tile pieces on the book cover, stealing glances at the floor below him every so often.

Wonwoo and Junhui had relocated to the carpeted part of the floor, where the shelves and books were kept. It was still incredible to see those pieces move at the whim of Chan’s fingertips. From a book cover, no less.

“I can’t believe I never knew about this,” Wonwoo mused, eyes fixed on the moving floor in front of them.

“Maybe you weren’t supposed to know until the right time.”

Wonwoo shrugged.

Afraid he might fall back into his dark thoughts, Junhui dug around for a change in topic. “A lot of kids wish they could grow up to be King, but I guess you didn’t have to imagine, huh?” He nudged him and laughed.

Wonwoo offered a small smile.

“Did you want to be King?”

“The question never came up. It was a given that I would inherit the throne one day.”

“But did you want to?” Junhui pressed on, hoping to prompt some funny childhood stories, but Wonwoo remained all too serious.

“Does it matter?”

“You matter.”

Wonwoo smiled softly, but the gesture barely reached his eyes. “You’re sweet, princess.”

Placing his hands under his chin, he imitated a flower and tilted his head to the side. “The sweetest?” The sticky quality and high-pitch of his own voice made him cringe a little, but since it got Wonwoo laughing, Junhui endured the embarrassment.

Wonwoo’s eyes softened as he gazed at him, a hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll keep you after all, princess.”

Warmth rushed through his body, causing his stomach to swoop and his heart to skip a beat. He knew his cheeks must have turned pink, too, but Junhui pretended not to notice, playing it off. “Didn’t I say that I’d think about the royal pet job position?”

At that moment, his eyes turned green in amusement and mischief. “Who says I’m talking about that position?”

The smirk really did a number on Junhui’s heart. He couldn’t help gulp, voice small as he asked, “What position are you talking about, then?”

Wonwoo shrugged, smirk still wide and striking. “Who knows?”

“Wha—”

Before Junhui could get a real answer, Chan’s voice echoed from upstairs. “Hey, guys? I think I got something.”

The pair put the playful banter on hold and immediately headed for the stairs to find Chan grinning. “I just have one last push. Come take a look.” He waved them to the railing, and they looked down.

“It’s a giant tree,” Junhui stated the obvious.

“An apple tree,” Wonwoo corrected him.

“Yeah, I figured out the last part of the riddle said something about life, right? Old and broken is the wood. And then the previous lines talk about a treasure. Every kid knows about the origin of Serenity Woods’s magic,” Chan said in a matter of fact manner. Junhui looked from him to Wonwoo, but neither noted his lack of knowledge on the subject.

“About that...” he started. “Can you shed some light for me? I didn’t take the Serenity Woods History course in high school.”

“Oh!” Chan exclaimed. “Right. Sorry. Umm... to make a long story short: Magic was discovered under the bark of a huge apple tree by the heir to the throne. Don’t ask me how he knew, because I don’t know either. But anyway, so after he pulled apart the barks, he found magic and returned to the palace to tell his father. The next day, they sent people to harvest it. The pieces of bark were used to make shelter for the poor. That would be the ‘some find safety beneath its gate’ that the riddle means, right?”

Wonwoo nodded along.

“And then the next line talks about ‘death under its weight.’ Well, in the story, villains tried to come and steal the tree because they wanted the magic for themselves. Because their intent was selfish and harmful, the tree crushed them. Tragic.” Chan shook his head in mock sadness. “So adding everything up, it makes sense that the final image is that of a giant apple tree!”

“That’s amazing!” Junhui cheered. “So just only last square to put into place, huh?”

“Yeah. Let’s see what happens when it does.” Chan pushed the last tile on the book cover and below them, the last puzzle pieces fell into place.

At that moment, millions of tiny specks of light started to shoot upward from the tree trunk to the canopy of the tree, radiating out to the tip of the leaves. The constant flow of light looked like a river of diamonds. They all stared in awe at the spectacle. Shortly after, the flow slowed, and the glimmer dimmed.

“Let’s go.” Wonwoo nudged them to the ground level, each step taking them closer to the blinking lights.

“I can’t believe this was unlocked from a book cover,” Junhui remarked, still not quite believing his eyes.

“Yeah,” Chan agreed. “You really can’t judge a book by its cover, huh?” he joked, and Junhui laughed along with him.

Coming off the staircase, they took careful steps onto the floor, only daring to walk on the edge where the marble tiles didn’t glow.

“So now what?” Chan pondered as he looked more closely at the lights. With the sun slowly setting in the distance, the glittery squares adopted a pinkish glow to them, absorbing the orange and red glow of the last sun rays.

“There was a small detail you forgot in the story, Chan.” Wonwoo walked to the right hand side of the treetop where the leaves still glistened. “They found an apple.”

“Oh, yeah. With a key inside,” Chan remembered.

“Wanna guess what we’ll find, too?” Wonwoo got down on one knee, and the others followed his finger to the drawing of an apple.

He placed his hand over it and a burst of purple light appeared. When he removed his hand, a silver key laid on the spot where the apple had been. Junhui blinked, mouth agape. His shock had barely had time to register, that the ground shook. About a dozen tiles at the foot of the tree trunk sunk into the ground to form stairs.

“Down we go, then!” Chan answered.

With a flick of his hand, Wonwoo retrieved their backpacks from the landing. The cousins slung them over their shoulders, then they all filed onto the stairs toward the unknown below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope the whole puzzle makes sense... it does in my head, but yeahhh... please let me know if it's too confusing and i'll try to fix it.
> 
> but omj, you know the love is obvious when even the bad guys pick up on it. damn it, wonhui. just accept it already *sigh* at least they're much more giving when it comes to PDA, right? lol. (POYWonHui can't relate)
> 
> so next chapter is gonna be... a monster, in terms of length and content, so it might take me longer. i will shoot for a week from today at the latest. crossing my fingers that it won't take that long. 
> 
> as always, thank you very much for reading! take care, everyone!  
> xoxoxo


	13. Playing with Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WonHuiChan meet Angella Fyre, and they are asked to perform a few tasks before getting their next clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY. this chapter is... _a lot_ 😪 it is longer than some of my oneshots (at 17.7K words. DANG) but hopefully, it'll be really interesting and you won't notice the length :D
> 
> ANYWAY. PLEASE! _PLEASE_ keep an open mind with Wonwoo. I understand feeling frustrated and angry, but please be nice to him. A lot more action and drama unfolds, so yeah... 
> 
> WARNING: slight blood
> 
> -

“Watch your step,” Wonwoo advised. “Stay close.”

It was so dark down here, Junhui wondered for a moment whether his eyes were actually open or if he had closed them and forgot. As soon as they had stepped off the last marble tile, the staircase had rumbled and moved to shut the gap, effectively plunging them in the dark. It was impossible to see anything. The boys shuffled around for a few seconds, too afraid of accidentally walking into a wall or encountering something dangerous.

“I can’t exactly tell if I am close,” Chan muttered.

Doing the same trick he had done earlier in the tunnels, Wonwoo snapped his fingers and a purple flame appeared in his palm. With a larger size, the flame successfully chased the dark for a good dozen feet or so.

“Better?”

“Mm.” Chan looked around, eyes roaming over the clean gray walls. “Why is the Professor so fond of tunnels?”

Wonwoo shifted to shine the light behind them, confirming that they needed to proceed forward. There was no way of returning to the library from here.

“It’s probably less conspicuous,” Wonwoo answered, nodding for them to start walking. “Beats running through the streets and hiding from guards, right?”

“I suppose. But tunnels are creepy, not to mention the fact it’s a one-way maze. I’m just worried about running into unpleasant characters.”

“If worse comes to worst, we’ll have to make do with a quick portal. You still have chalk, right?”

“Yeah.” Chan patted the side of the backpack he carried.

As they continued on, Wonwoo’s tight grip on Junhui’s wrist grew slightly uncomfortable, and Junhui carefully tried to twist his arm without alerting him. As if in realization, though, Wonwoo let go and slid his fingers down to hold onto Junhui’s hand, instead. The gesture caused his heart to skip a beat, but just as quickly, he thought of how this veered more toward an adult holding a child’s hand to keep him from falling, than a romantic gesture. He heaved a quiet sigh.

Before his mood could deflate too much, Chan began to chat. “Whoever this Angella Fyre person is,” he started, “I hope she’s a nice lady with food and a bed. As of right now, I am pooped.”

Wonwoo looked over at his cousin. “If Professor Larkin gave us a riddle to find her, I’m pretty sure she can help.”

“I know that, but would it be too much to ask for a warm meal? And a bed to sleep in with non-itchy blankets?” Chan mumbled sadly. “When’s the last time any of us had a proper meal? Plus, I know we’re running out of snacks in here.” He shook his backpack.

Feeling sympathetic, Junhui lifted his free hand to pat his shoulder.

“I bet Jun is tired, too,” the younger added. “I haven’t heard a peep out of him since we started down the stairs.” He turned to Junhui for confirmation, but the latter merely smiled back in response. The truth was, he was just as tired as their youngest, but he didn’t see the point of adding more complaints. It’ll just make the journey seem even more arduous. They had to keep going, regardless.

“Aren’t you concerned with me?” Wonwoo asked, feigning hurt.

Chan rolled his eyes at him. “No. You already went through basic training. I know you can endure worse situations than this. I’m only concerned for us regular folks.” As he talked, he indicated toward himself and Junhui, making the latter chuckle.

“I see how it it,” Wonwoo kid, faking a sob.

Chan rolled his eyes again, sighing and shaking his head when Wonwoo laughed.

Around the next bend, they came upon a set of steps leading seemingly to the surface.

“Up we go,” Wonwoo said, leading the way.

“Are we still in Serenity Woods?” Junhui asked, not at all aware of the geography of this realm.

“At this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised if that door leads to your world,” Wonwoo replied. “A day ago, we took refuge in a storm shelter in Ashberry, then after a trip through a mirror, we ended up in my library in Serenity Woods, which hid a staircase to some unknown tunnel.”

“I thought you guys would be use to this kind of thing,” Junhui remarked, too busy looking from one cousin to the other to notice his step, and nearly tripping on an unevenly high step.

Wonwoo clicked his tongue, but managed to tug on Junhui’s hand on time. “We’re used to seeing magic around,” he went on. “But not going through secret passageways and ended up in different parts of the country. Or the neighboring one. Normally, you have to have a specific location in mind before you open a portal.”

“Like when I showed up in your world,” Chan added. “Without the coordinates that Wonwoo wrote, I’d never have gotten there on my own.”

Junhui nodded, contemplating the new information. Who knew magic was so complicated? He always saw it as, well, _magical._

At last, they reached the top of the stairs, where a locked door barred their way. It was rather large, dark with age, thick wood and metal strips. Wonwoo gently slid his hand out of Junhui’s and dug into his pocket for the silver key. He inserted it into the lock, and they heard a soft click, before the door creaked open.

The crisp and fresh scent of nature drifted through the crack, carrying with it the cool sensation of nighttime. Wherever they were, the door opened to the outdoors. The boys peeked from behind Wonwoo as the latter nudged the door a bit wider, stance defensive, ready to strike anything that came at them. When nothing did, he picked up Junhui’s hand and pushed the door open all the way.

They stepped out under the dark sky of yet another forest.

“Aw, we’re back in the woods?” Chan grumbled.

Junhui pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle his giggles. Poor kid. His hopes for a bed and warm food never got a chance to bloom.

They trudged along for a short distance, before Chan asked for a break. “Can we set up camp, please?” his voice sounded on the verge of collapse. Enough that Junhui readied himself to catch him lest he really did fall asleep mid-walk.

“We’re almost there,” Wonwoo said.

“How could you possible know that? We don’t even know where we are.”

“Chan,” he sighed. His tone was that of a parent trying to keep their child from throwing a tantrum.

The younger huffed.

After a few more steps, Junhui tugged on Wonwoo’s hand and quickly nodded toward his cousin. “Is he okay?”

The younger walked at a steady pace, eyes open but lacking any spark, completely zoning out.

Wonwoo threw a glimpse, then answered, “He’s fine. He’s just casted a small easy spell to keep himself happy.”

Junhui arched a brow. “He can do that?”

“Think of it as having an extremely good imagination.”

“Okay…” He threw another anxious look at the boy. “If you say so.”

After a moment of silence as they kept walking, Junhui spoke again. “Um, do you think we should stop for the night? That can’t be healthy.” He stared at Chan’s surreal calmness.

Wonwoo glanced at his cousin, then debated for a second. “Maybe you’re right.” He grabbed Chan by the elbow and shook his arm lightly, like waking someone up from their sleep. “Channie.”

A bewildered Chan snapped back to life, eyes darting around. “What’s going on?”

Shrouded in the darkness, someone suddenly yanked Junhui forcefully to the side, his fingers slipping out of Wonwoo’s. He cried out in surprise, twisting to get free.

“Junhui!”

The temperature of the forest dropped dramatically, and something covered the glow from the moon above. Several hands reached out from nothingness and gripped onto Junhui’s arms, pulling his elbows back behind him to keep him immobile.

“Let go!” he screamed, fighting against the freezing touch, attention divided between the invisible assailants and his friends. A horde of shadows descended on Wonwoo and Chan, separating them from each other.

“Don’t touch them!” Wonwoo snarled, shooting bright orbs of light against the shadows, but there were too many of them. As soon as he wriggled free of one, another grabbed him.

Chan wrangled furiously, having less of them anchoring him down. He freed one arm and punched the one right next to him. But before he could run, a dark hand yanked on his hair and slammed his head against the forest floor.

Junhui shrieked, fighting hard enough that the claws clutching him began to pierce skin. He kicked and slammed into the creeps, doing whatever he could to get free and run to Chan, but a sudden punch to the stomach knocked the wind out of him. He choked, tears springing to his eyes. His vision blurred as he watched from the ground, coiled in pain.

The shadows picked Chan’s limp body up, the pain making him hiss. Blood dripped from his nose and lips. Junhui froze, unable to keep struggling, too distraught to think of anything but Chan’s unconsciousness.

A few feet away, an explosion of light erupted as Wonwoo roared, loud and powerful enough to make a few of the shadows disperse. But the reprieve was short-lived. Before too long, he too was slammed to the ground. “They have nothing to do with anything!” he shouted. “I’ll go with you, just let them go!”

Junhui could see Wonwoo clearly now. His silver eyes glowed in the dark. That same low wave of energy radiated in the air. The slow and deep breaths he was making himself take. He would snap soon. Very soon.

“Darlings, haven’t I taught you better?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the charged atmosphere, announcing the arrival of a young woman.

She emerged from the foggy woods, her long black hair tumbling down her back. She looked to be in her twenties, but appearances could be deceiving. She wasn’t exactly pretty or beautiful, but the aura around her could make everything stop. Just like the shadows holding them bound. The hands didn’t loosen their grip, but they ceased to grind the sharp claws into their skin.

“It looks like we are in luck,” she continued breezily, smiling contently at the people on the ground. With a simple gesture, she dismissed the shadows, and they vanished into thin air.

Junhui could finally feel the air rushing into his lungs, and he gasped like a fish out of water. The spots on his arms where those brutes clawed at him stung, and he could spy blood staining the sleeves of his shirt.

“Well, if it isn’t Lee Chan, the King’s nephew,” she remarked, walking over to peer at the unconscious boy. “And His Highness, Prince Wonwoo!” Clapping her hands together, she laughed in delight. Then her stare shifted over to Junhui, roaming over his face. Instantly, her smile hardened as she focused on his left hand.

Movements to the side caught their attention, and they turned to see Wonwoo gritting his teeth as he crawled over to Chan to heal his cousin from the injuries. The boy stirred, brows furrowing briefly before his expression smoothed out again. Junhui let out a relieved breath when Chan groggily woke up.

“Your Highness,” she called sweetly. “I’m rather hurt to not have received news of your engagement.”

Wonwoo didn’t bother replying, more concerned with the welfare of his young cousin. He talked to him in a soft tone, asking something, to which Chan shook his head, patting his hand in reassurance.

Seemingly miffed at being ignored, she added off-handedly, “I’m sure it’ll throw quite a kink in Warwick’s plans if you manage to produce an heir to Serenity Woods. But don’t worry.” She laughed, placing a finger over her lips. “I’ll keep your secret safe.”

Junhui choked on air. Sure, he could understand the misinterpretation of the ring around his finger, but _an heir?_ Did she not notice that he was male? No matter how many times he dressed up as a girl, he wouldn’t magically obtain the necessary biological equipment to create a baby, much less Wonwoo’s. At the thought, his cheeks burned, all the more when he caught Wonwoo’s gaze. Immediately, he closed his eyes and shook his head, forcing his brain to focus on the strange woman instead of her weird comments.

Now that Chan could sit up, Wonwoo cast a long and lethal glare at her. She seemed so at ease, as if just waiting patiently for him to speak to her.

“Are you Angella Fyre?” he asked, voice cold and detached.

She beamed at this, actually doing a curtsy as if her shadow people hadn’t just tried to skewer them and crack open Chan’s head. “At your service, Your Highness. I suppose you have found Professor Larkin’s journals and are looking for that mysterious cave.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We hope you can assist us with the next step.”

She seemed surprised by that news, but the way her lips curled up, satisfied, told another story. “Isn’t that something. Well, let’s get inside and discuss things further. I’m sure you are all very hungry and tired.”

And with that, her shadows appeared by their sides again. But this time, they kept their distance, hovering around the group like a black wall, corralling them together and making it impossible for the boys to escape as they followed behind Angella Fyre deeper into the woods. Tangled vines and twisted branches uncurled to create a path as soon as she approached, and as Junhui turned over his shoulder, he saw them return to their original position, leaving no trace of a path whatsoever.

“Eat, eat! You must be terribly tired and hungry.”

The boys were now sitting—quite uncomfortably and awkwardly—around a wooden table in a cottage barely bigger than Professor Larkin’s. Their host had cooked up a few dishes for them, urging them to eat and replenish their strengths. Junhui didn’t trust her, and from the way Wonwoo eyed the food with slight disdain, he wasn’t the only one. Despite almost killing them in the woods, she had yet to apologize or show any signs of remorse for attacking them without prompting.

While her back was turned to stoke the fire, Wonwoo inspected the food. He deemed it safe enough for consumption, nodding at Chan. The latter, as hungry as he was, still fidgeted as he pulled the bowl of porridge close. Junhui poked at his own bowl, swallowing the bites down without tasting anything. He was too ill at ease, distracted as his eyes kept darting around the house, expecting the shadow people to attack again.

Throughout the night, Wonwoo had been trying to get her to answer their questions about the next step, but very cleverly, she had avoided all of them, diverting their attention to one mundane thing to another.

“I don’t mean to be rude, ma’am,” Wonwoo interjected after another roundabout conversation. “But we need your help with the next riddle. I am afraid there is no time to waste. Did Professor Larkin leave anything with you for us?”

She seemed startled, as if just remembering their purpose for being here in the first place. “Oh, yes. Of course, I’ll help.” Then her eyes shifted to where Chan sat.

When the older boys followed her gaze, they saw Chan with his arms folded on the table, head nestled comfortably there as he slept. Junhui brushed back his hair. Then as if watching the boy prompted him to remember his own exhaustion, he yawned, putting a hand over his mouth.

“Hm. You two should head off to bed. I’ve already prepared the room,” she said, her voice losing the cloyingly sweet tone she had used earlier.

Junhui’s brows furrowed as he looked at her, full of suspicions. Was this her plan all along? To get Wonwoo alone by feeding Junhui and Chan spiked food? But Wonwoo had already inspected it. Perhaps Chan was right, and Wonwoo was just better at enduring exhaustion. Whatever the case, Junhui didn’t feel particularly reassured about leaving Wonwoo alone with her. She was a witch. Wonwoo couldn’t heal injuries caused by magic.

Seeing the unwillingness reflected in Junhui’s eyes, she grinned, red lips stretching over white teeth. “Ah, darling. Don’t worry, I’ll return your fiancé before dawn.”

Junhui jolted, eyes round as he sucked in a breath to finally right the misunderstanding, but Wonwoo’s hand on his thigh told him to stop. He slumped in his seat, closing his mouth. He turned to Wonwoo as the latter offered him a gentle smile.

“I’ll be there soon, princess. Please take Chan upstairs, and get some rest, too.”

It was difficult for him to refuse when Wonwoo flashed him that smile and squeezed his thigh under the table. So with a small sigh, he nodded and turned to Chan. Wonwoo put him on his back, and Junhui piggybacked him all the way to the room Angella Fyre indicated. Gently, he settled Chan into one of the beds and pulled the covers over his chest.

Now that he had moved around, he didn’t feel that sleepy anymore. He took a seat on the next bed over and scooted up to the headboard. Well, if he can’t sleep, he could at least stand guard, he decided, throwing a glimpse at Chan. To kill time, he grabbed the riddle journal and started going through each one again. It wasn’t until he got to the one before the last, that he noticed a tiny, minuscule digit hidden in one letter.

He flipped back to the beginning and started to scrutinize every character. And sure enough, there was a number hidden in all the riddles, but never in the same letter twice. Always a different one. Tucked away, almost invisible. The number also corresponded to the order of each riddle, accounting for the clues that were left elsewhere than the journal. In the riddle that led them to the map, there was a 1, but a hidden 3 was written in the riddle for the egg, because the riddle for river was found behind the map.

_What a realization!_

In theory, if he could locate the number in the riddle after the one for _fire_ , then would be able to determine how many clues they were supposed to pick up here. A small dose of excitement rushed through his veins. He was in the midst of reading the next entry, when the door creaked quietly, and Wonwoo slipped inside.

“You’re here,” he called in a whisper, sighing in joy at seeing him in one piece.

“I’m here.” Wonwoo closed the door. “Sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Walking into the room, he checked in on Chan.

“I wasn’t asleep yet, it’s okay.”

Wonwoo sat at the side of Junhui’s bed, resting his elbows on his thighs and ran a hand through his hair. “You really should. We’ve had a really long day.”

Ignoring that suggestion, he put the riddle book away and poked his back. “So what happened? What was so important that Chan and I couldn’t even be present in the same room for the discussion?”

Wonwoo groaned as he stretched his stiff shoulders and motioned for Junhui to scoot over. Once he did, Wonwoo lounged back on the pillows, eyes closed momentarily. “She thinks Chan is just a kid, and she doesn’t trust you.” He huffed.

“Why?” As far as Junhui could tell, he hadn’t offended her in any way.

“Because you’re not from our world.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s reasonable.” People tend to fear and distrust unfamiliar things, so it was understandable. Besides, Junhui didn’t like her for similar reasons. Not to mention the fact that she nearly killed them. “Although, I do wish she had a reasonable explanation for her assumption,” he grumbled, crossing his legs as he sat next to him.

“Assumption—Oh.” Wonwoo nodded as he remembered. “Don’t worry about that. I took care of it. I explained our relationship—or the lack of—and it’s all clear. Sorry about that.”

“No, I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to apologize,” Junhui quickly said, hands waving in the air. “It was just… It was a little—a lot—unexpected? I mean, I know I can pass for a girl with the right clothes and acting, but.” He gestured wildly toward his tummy. “I don’t have a uterus.”

A fit of laughter attacked Wonwoo, and he pressed his face into the pillows to muffle the sound, unwilling to risk waking his cousin up.

“What?” Junhui asked with a slight whine, cheeks pink at Wonwoo’s reaction.

Once the latter regained his breath, he laid on his back again and looked at him. “Sorry, sorry.” He patted his knee and steadied himself, clearing his throat. “But just so you know, she’s not completely baseless in her assumption.”

“What?” For whatever reason, heat spread through his body, and his stomach swooped. “What do you mean?” He couldn’t help it. His hands immediately flew to his stomach, prompting Wonwoo laugh again.

“No, no.” He shook his head, calming Junhui’s frantic state. “I don’t mean you’re pregnant, princess.” He laughed again. “Just that you could, if you wanted to.”

That was it. Junhui was one step away from combusting on the spot.He leaned back, hand grabbing the pillow, ready to smother himself with it.

“There is a potion available to help men conceive.”

Junhui’s eyes popped wide as he gaped at the brand new information. “You mean there’s a drug that can make me pregnant?” he whisper-shouted. Letting go of the pillow, he pressed both hands to his mouth.

Before his imagination could go too far, and he really did combust from all the heat climbing his body, though, he shook his head, curling up for a moment, then sitting straight up. He took in a deep breath. “A-anyway! Please don’t distract me from my original question.”

Wonwoo arched a brow, biting back a grin as he watched Junhui’s pink cheeks. “You’re the one who brought it up first.”

Junhui refused the responsibility, gripping his knees and shaking his head stubbornly. “It doesn’t matter. Please answer the question.”

At the prospect of returning to serious business, Wonwoo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “She named her price, and we won’t get out of here without paying.”

Any residual heat evaporated, leaving behind nothing but an icy sense of dread. “What does that mean? Is she dangerous? Should we run…?” His eyes flitted over to Chan, ready to pick the boy up and dash out of here. “What do we do?”

With a hand resting lightly on Junhui’s wrist, Wonwoo made him focus his attention back to him. His eyes were a calming purple, like a field of lavender. Completely at ease. “I got it under control, princess. Just calm down, it won’t help if you go into cardiac arrest now.” The corners of his mouth pulled up to an amused grin, the edge of his irises a light green.

Junhui relaxed. “Okay. If you say so.”

Nodding, he shifted his frown to the bloodstains dotting Junhui’s sleeves. He clicked his tongue. “Sorry, I didn’t notice earlier,” he said, gingerly lifting one flowy sleeve up to his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Junhui replied, trying to pull his arm away. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Wonwoo refused to let go, leveling him with a firm stare. Junhui quit squirming. Gently, he ran his hand over the cuts and dried blood, erasing the marks and healing the injuries. After he finished with one, he motioned for the other and did the same.

“Thank you,” Junhui whispered. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. Just minor scratches from branches.” He stifled a yawn with a fist. Then the impulse kicked in, and Junhui couldn’t stop his own yawn as he put a hand over his mouth. “Sleepy now?” Wonwoo chuckled.

“More like the proof that yawns are contagious.” But still, Junhui blew out the candle and laid back on the other side of the bed, staring up the ceiling. He could feel Wonwoo’s gaze on him, so he looked over and asked softly, “What?”

Wonwoo shook his head, smiling. “Nothing.” His fingers found the ring on Junhui’s hand and spun it around lazily.

“You know,” Junhui began, a little hesitant. “Angella Fyre is the third person to believe that I’m engaged to you.” Getting the words out proved more difficult than he had imagined. Granted, he never imagined that he would come right out and ask, but the curiosity had been gnawing at him. Now laying in the dark, it seemed like a good idea.

Instead of answering his unspoken question, Wonwoo asked another. “Who else?”

“Does it matter?”

He shrugged. “No, but it would be nice to know who I’d have to invite to the wedding.” He chuckled and gave Junhui another gorgeous grin.

Junhui nudged him with an elbow to hide his burning face. “Hansol and Jihoon.”

“Oh. Interesting,” was all Wonwoo said.

With a playful poke to his ribs, Junhui asked, “So?”

Wonwoo picked up Junhui’s left hand, rotating the ring until they were both looking at the Royal seal: the diamond with the flower circling it. Now knowing the history of Serenity Woods, he guessed it must be an apple blossom.

“Two rings are made at the birth of an heir, passed to them when they turn eighteen. When it is time for them to get married, one is given to the intended. It’s to provide the couple with that certain connection and the ability to share any active spell the heir casts.”

Junhui remained quiet, letting the significance sink in. Jihoon and Hansol, and recently Angella Fyre, they all recognized the Royal seal. Now he really felt like a fool for telling Jihoon that ‘a friend gave it to him for good luck.’ Still, Junhui and Wonwoo weren’t engaged. This ring wasn’t his to keep. As Wonwoo had said the day Junhui nearly drowned, he put the ring on him to use its ability to share his powers when need be. Nothing less, nothing more.

“So, I guess…” Junhui began, looking at their linked fingers. “I guess that once this is all over, I should give it back to you.” He turned his face to look at Wonwoo, a little startled to find him already staring at him. Junhui stammered with weird noises for a second, before he could compose himself, laughing a little. “I wouldn’t want your intended to come chasing after me in Wildflower Grove.”

Wonwoo’s brows knitted together. “My intended?”

“Yeah, isn’t there some Royal somewhere already promised to you or something?”Even though it was dark, he was pretty sure Wonwoo’s eyes were as green as a patch of clovers as he tried not to laugh him. “Do you really think people would confuse us as an engaged couple if I was already supposed to marry someone?”

Junhui blinked, having not thought of that, but before he could ask for clarification, Wonwoo yawned again, and consequently, so did he.

“Let’s sleep,” Wonwoo suggested, pulling the blanket up to cover both of them. We’ve got a really long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Junhui grumbled, having to give up before getting his question answered. Not that he could feel disappointed for long. Not when a million butterflies flew around in his tummy.

Logically, he knew they were just sleeping, and it wasn’t like it was the first time. But that did little to stop his body from reacting to being surrounded by Wonwoo’s warmth and calming scent. His eyes drooped with fatigue, mind finally at ease now that he could bring himself to rest. He smiled to himself, enjoying the moment while he still could, snuggling closer to Wonwoo’s side.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

“’Night, Junnie.”

“Is there something you guys want to tell me?”

Junhui’s heavy eyes slowly fluttered open to Chan’s voice. The boy stood at the side of the bed, leaning over to stare at him with a quizzical look. It wasn’t until Wonwoo bounced out of bed as if burned that Junhui understood the implication. His face heated up, and he fought the urge to yank the covers over his head to hide.

Luckily, Wonwoo’s frantic question saved him from the mortifying moment.

“What time is it?”

“Um, around 7:30,” Chan answered, glancing at the small clock on the wall. “Why?”

“Oh, thank heavens.” Wonwoo dropped onto the mattress, breathing out in relief. “Since when have you managed to wake up before noon on your own?”

Chan threw a glimpse toward Junhui, before shrugging. “I don’t know. There was some weird bird calling earlier, so I went to investigate. Why the panic?”

Although Junhui and Wonwoo didn’t do anything but literally sleep together, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d been caught doing something naughty. He rubbed his face and headed for the washroom. The cousins’ voices were loud enough for him to hear over the flow of water.

“We’re supposed to meet up with Angella Fyre in half an hour,” Wonwoo said.

“What for? Is she going to give us the next clue?”

“Eventually. She has a bunch of tasks for us to do first.” He sounded annoyed.

Chan didn’t seem any happier, voice flat. “Are you serious? Like what?”

“Not sure. She didn’t go into details last night.” With a groan, he stood up, the bed springs creaking. “Let’s just do our best and get out of here as soon as we can.”

Finished cleaning up, Junhui walked back to the room. The cousins took turns heading for the washroom, and afterward, they all headed downstairs with nervousness and trepidation.

Would the outside change from last night’s trek in the woods? The witch’s cottage was hidden from the world, so anything could be possible. It really would not surprise him if they came face to face with a giant waterfall or a calm lake bordered by conifers. Or even a volcano, for all he knew. Strange location aside, what could she possibly want from them? Their souls? Their voices? Wonwoo’s undying loyalty? He highly doubted that such a powerful witch would only demand manual labor.

There were so much going on in his head, so many thoughts colliding inside as their little group made its way down the stairs. Junhui gripped the balustrade with trembling fingers, stealing a quick glance at Chan. He was still entertaining the possibility of running away, and he had to be ready to grab their youngest at the first sign of danger.

Angella Fyre abandoned the perfect host act from last night. In its place, a composed and austere figure stood in the kitchen, appraising them as they stepped in. Watching them, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, as if satisfied with a secret reason other than their punctuality. It made Junhui’s skin crawl.

“I hope you had a goodnight’s sleep, Your Highnesses,” she said, purposely directing her attention to the cousins. Junhui was relieved she didn’t pay him any attention, content with hiding behind Wonwoo.

The boys nodded curtly at her. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Wonwoo said evenly.

“My pleasure.” She smiled. “Let’s talk about today’s task, shall we? You’ll be going swimming.”

With a clap, they suddenly appeared on a beach. Junhui wiggled his toes in the sand and wild tuffs of grass. Overhead, large trees swayed to and fro, their large shadows shielding the boys from the harsh sun. Some feet away, blue waves crashed onto the shore, spraying mist into the briny air.

“There is a bottle on the bottom of this ocean,” she said. “It contains a million falling stars—the ones forced to carry someone’s wish as they fell down from above. Find that bottle, free the stars.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Chan didn’t bother to hide his irritation. “And what even is the purpose?”

Unaffected by his tone, she inclined her head and explained, “These tasks are merely errands that I cannot achieve on my own. It only seems fair that you help me in exchange, right? As for the task itself, simply break the bottle and set the stars free.”

Tugging Chan’s shirt, Junhui whispered to him, “Ask her how we’re going to get back.” The younger nodded and repeated the question.

For only a split second, she glared at Junhui, an icy look that penetrated through his bones. She continued with forced politeness. “Once you break the bottle, you will be transported back to the cottage. I’m certain that Your Highnesses are trustworthy, but if the idea of cheating does cross your mind, please don’t bother. You can’t use any transportation spell, not unless you wish you leave my domain for good. It would be very regretful if you left empty-handed, wouldn’t it?” She flashed a grin.

Chan cut his eyes at her, revulsion evident.

“Well, then. Good luck.” Just like that, she clapped her hands once more and disappeared in a flash.

“This is ridiculous,” Chan grumbled solemnly as they started for the beach.

“We need to strategize,” Wonwoo said.

“Easier said than done,” Chan muttered. “This is a whole ocean, with who knows what kind of animals living in it. Not to mention the fact that we’re supposed to find a bottle that we’ve never seen before.”

“You’re not helping,” he responded.

“I’m being realistic. It’s going to take us forever to find it.”

“Not forever,” Junhui interjected, trying to lift the mood a little.

Chan shot him an unimpressed look. “Positivity can only go so far, Jun.”

They stood by the edge of the water, the waves rolling in before crashing into the sand, caressing their naked feet. The salty air mixed with the smell of seaweed, curling around them. Looking at the dark sea in the distance and feeling the briny spray on his face, Junhui gulped. He clutched his rolling stomach, squeezing his eyes shut. He thought that after twelve years, he’d be over it. Despite his best effort, his palms turned clammy, and he could taste bile in his mouth along with the influx of saliva.

“Junhui?” Wonwoo’s voice sounded so far away, even though he knew the other stood only a couple feet to his side. “Hey, are you okay?” Cool hands cupped his face.

“Jun?” Chan hovered on his other side. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He didn’t want them to worry about him. Not when they had such a difficult task ahead of them. Knitting his brows together, he swallowed down the nausea and forced a smile. “I’m… okay. I just… can’t go into the ocean.” Shaky hands reached up to hold Wonwoo’s wrists and pull them away from his face. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

The cousins didn’t look convinced at all.

Junhui laughed nervously, wanting the spotlight away from him. “I just had a bit of a traumatic experience with the ocean when I was young,” he explained, hoping it’ll be enough. “So I’ll be more of a hindrance if I go in. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Jun…” Chan rubbed his back sympathetically. “That’s not your fault.”

Wonwoo sighed, alternating his attention between Junhui and the sea. “Are you going to be okay on your own? I really don’t know how long it’ll take us to find this supposed bottle.”

Junhui nodded quickly. “Please don’t worry about me!”

The cousins hesitated for a second, but they all knew that there was nothing they could do. They had to accomplish this task successfully or they won’t be able to progress on their quest. So while Junhui walked back up the beach, the boys dove into the crashing waves, swimming out into the distance, farther and farther away. Junhui could spot their wet heads as they bopped at the surface. Wonwoo must be casting a spell on them both, allowing them to breathe underwater. With a final wave at him, the cousins plunged into the depth of the ocean.

Junhui sat on the warm sand, curling his legs toward his chest and wound his arms on top of them. He sighed, dejected from being useless. If they had more time, he wondered if Wonwoo could have erased his memories, or at the very least, blocked them out. This task was challenging enough for three people, now their team was down to two, all because Junhui couldn’t get over his fear of being dragged out to sea.

He sighed, staring out at the water.

How long has it been since Wonwoo and Chan left? Ten minutes? Three hours? Again, what he wouldn’t give to have a tv and video camera at his disposition. Even if he couldn’t be there with them in person, he could be their eyes and make sure they wouldn’t be caught off-guard by a shark or some creepy deep sea creature.

A large wave rolled in, which wasn’t all that worthy of note, but when the water pulled away, something washed up. Junhui squinted. The object caught the sunlight and sparkled. He looked back toward the ocean. Still no signs of the boys coming up any time soon. Deciding to investigate, he sat up and dusted his pants.

At first, he couldn’t make out what it was, even when he stood right above it. Partially because the item was half buried in the sand, but primarily because he had never imagined finding such an intricate dagger on a beach. He nudged it with the tip of his toes. Not a mirage. Squatting down, he carefully dug it out of the wet sand, rinsing it in the water before examining it. Whoever it belonged to must be quite an affluent individual. The design crafted on the silver handle was intricate and beautiful, adorned with sizable gems. The case protected it was even more ornate. Gripping it tightly, he tugged, wanting to check the blade inside—

“Jun! Jun! Where are you?” Chan shouted in a panic.

A jolt of fear struck across his heart as he jumped to his feet.

“Help! Jun!”

Bewildered, he shoved the dagger into his pocket and ran. He nearly tripped and fell when his eyes landed on Chan struggling to carry an unconscious Wonwoo over his shoulders. The boy dragged his cousin up the beach onto the sand, carefully putting him down, chest heaving.

Junhui crashed onto the scene, eyes wide and terrified. “What happened?”

“I—I—I don’t know!” Chan was shaking, as terrified as Junhui. “He was swimming behind me. Suddenly, I hear a garbled gasp, and when I turned around, he was sinking. I—I—don’t—”

“Wonwoo?” Junhui called, kneeling by his side. He didn’t expect an answer, but he had to keep himself sane. “Wonwoo, it’s okay. We’re not leaving you.” Straightening his head, Junhui clasped his hands together and began to give him CPR. “Come on, Wonwoo.” He breathed for him, counting in his head, and pushing on his chest again. “Did you find the bottle?” he asked Chan. “He needs to be taken back to—Oh, god, no.”

Blood gushed out from a wound at his side, red dying the white sand beneath him. “No, no, no, no! Wonwoo! Come on, wake up! Channie—”

When Junhui turned to him, Chan was already running back toward the sea. Left on his own, the panic surged, but Junhui grit his teeth and focused on Wonwoo. He breathed into his mouth again. “Please, Wonwoo. Don’t leave me now. Come on, you can do this.” He pushed again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of anguish, Wonwoo coughed out water. “Wonwoo!” With his hands, Junhui cupped his face and looked at him. “Wonwoo, Wonwoo. Can you hear me?”

Wonwoo groaned, but soon lost consciousness again.

With a sharp tug, Junhui ripped a big chunk of his shirt and pressed it against Wonwoo’s side, stopping the bleeding as best he could. “You’re gonna be okay, Wonwoo. Chan went to get that bottle. You’ll be fine.” Whether that was said to Wonwoo or to comfort himself, Junhui wasn’t sure. But his breath caught in his throat, breaking his voice.

The blood was seeping through the thin cloth, staining his hands, covering what was left of his clothes in red. Junhui tore out one of his sleeves and pressed it against the gash. “Chan, please hurry.” He cradled Wonwoo into his lap, pressing down the soiled cloth against his skin. “Angella Fyre! Angella Fyre!” Junhui started to scream out her name like a crazed person. “Angella Fyre! Please, save him!”

Junhui bit back the resentment and the fear long enough to call out for help one more time. But nothing. _What kind of person does this?_ At that moment, the same wave of fear that took over him twelve years ago when he had been dragged out to sea, crashed into his chest again. The realization that maybe things wouldn’t turn out okay at the end of the day. That maybe the conclusion coming was not the one that will solve everything, but simply finish it. Junhui pulled Wonwoo in closer, unwilling to let him go.

“Jun! Jun, I got it!” He looked up.

Chan, holding a very ordinary bottle came rushing toward him. At that moment, Junhui didn’t even think about how Chan found it so fast, just that Wonwoo had a chance, that the three of them could make it back to that cottage now.

“Break it!” Junhui shouted just as Chan held on to the neck and struck it against a large rock nearby.

The bottle shattered into pieces, and a spray of brilliant little specks rushed out toward the sky. Instantly, the three of them flashed back to the cottage.

Not losing any more time, Chan and Junhui took Wonwoo to the room. They set him on the bed, and Chan ran into the washroom with the water basin. Junhui sat on the edge of the mattress, his hand still pressed against the bleeding. Chan appeared back into the room in a flash, two towels in one hand and the water in the other.

Carefully, Junhui peeled the stained cloth from Wonwoo’s torso and threw them to the side. The wound had stopped bleeding, fortunately. Junhui let out a breath of relief for the first time as he and Chan washed the cut from the blood.

“How did he get stabbed?” Junhui asked, baffled.

Shaking his head, Chan said, “I wish I knew. But I didn’t see anyone but us. One second he was behind me and the next, he was sinking, hitting his head against the rocks.”

Hearing that, Junhui checked Wonwoo’s head, but not signs of bleeding there. “Was it a hard hit?”

“I don’t think so. Whatever caused him to lose consciousness wasn’t the hit to the head.” Fussing with the towels, he groaned. “How are we supposed to heal him? He’s always been the one to do it.”

“Always the one taking care of others,” Junhui muttered. “Never willing to let others take care of him.” He sighed. “Angella Fyre is a witch, she must know—”

“Oh, dear! What happened?” As if on cue, the woman burst into the room, charging directly at Junhui and threw him out of the bed. He stumbled, nearly colliding with the dresser. In the short moment, she took his spot next to Wonwoo.

A clatter caused everyone to look at Junhui’s feet, including him.

The dagger he had found at the beach laid there. A suffocating silence blanketed the room. Fear and confusion gripping his nerves, he looked up to meet Chan’s eyes. The latter furrowed his brows, gaze flickering from the dagger to his friend, confusion evident. Junhui stood frozen as Angella Fyre left Wonwoo’s side and slowly crept up toward him to pick up the knife. Throwing a glance at him, she slid the case open. There wasn’t much left due being in the water, but traces of fresh blood dotted the blade.

“No.” Junhui choked out, head shaking frantically.

“How did you come in possession of this knife?” she asked, her back to both Chan and Wonwoo’s bed. While her voice remained grave, she flashed him a vile grin.

“I didn’t do this! I would never hurt Wonwoo!”

Smiling again, she took another step toward him. “I’m not saying you did. But you cannot deny how suspicious it is that the weapon used to harm Prince Wonwoo was in your possession, can you?”

“I found it on the beach!”

“Yes, well.” She dismissed him with a flick of her hair. “I’m sure Prince Wonwoo will be able to shed some light on the matter when he wakes up.” Seeing his distressed expression, she laughed. “Don’t worry. If you did nothing wrong, then you have nothing to fear.”

And with that, she just left. _She left!_

Junhui stood in place blinking blankly. He could feel Chan’s gaze on him, and he sheepishly turned to him, bracing himself for the worst. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hoped he had the strength to speak.

“Chan, please.” His voice cracked, eyes stinging. “You have to believe me. I didn’t do this. I would never—”

Surprising him, Chan nodded. “I know, Jun. I believe you.”

Junhui could almost leap up and embrace him.

Chan remained silent as he stared at his cousin. Then as if remembering something, his eyes lit up, and he reached for their bags. “I almost forgot we had a few leaves left!” Retrieving the honeydew leaves, he made quick work of peeling the skin and smearing the gooey gel on the raw cut. “I hope it’ll be enough for a speedy recovery.”

Junhui slumped against the dresser, grateful for Chan’s faith and the miracle leaves. Still, he couldn’t help thinking of that awful accusation.

Angella Fyre had no ground, no evidence to accuse him, yet she had sounded so sure. It was almost as if she expected it. But how could that be? And why did she plant that seed of doubt into his head about Wonwoo side of the story when he woke up?

“Jun, I know you didn’t do it.” Chan startled him out the stormy clouds, despite using a very soft voice. Junhui looked at him with hope. “It’s only logical,” Chan continued. “Even if you had been hiding some secret powers that allowed you to turn invisible in the water, the physics wouldn’t add up. Scenario one: Wonwoo was stabbed underwater—somehow—but the knife wouldn’t be able to retain _any_ blood on its blade.” He gestured to the smeared dagger.

“Now, if he were stabbed after I brought him to the surface, it still wouldn’t add up. He began to bleed before I jumped back into the ocean, which means that I would have seen you take a swing at him. Therefore, he was stabbed some time earlier. Moreover, your hands are still bloody from handling the cut, while the handle is spotless. This fits your claim that you found the dagger, pocketed it, and then found Wonwoo already hurt. In conclusion, you cannot be the culprit.”

“Thank you,” was all Junhui could say.

Chan nodded. “Logic is your best friend.” Lowering his voice, he hissed, “It’ll take more than a wild accusation from some weird witch to convince me. Not to mention the fact I highly doubt you’d ever do anything to hurt him.”

“Thank you for believing me,” Junhui said again. “I thought I was the only one who found her strange.”

Chan shook his head, frowning. “Ever since her shadows tried to kill us…” Heshuddered. “She creeps me out.” He said the last sentence with such intense emphasis, Junhui couldn’t help laughing a little. “And what’s up with the ‘Your Highness’ crap? As if she really means it.”

“Isn’t that how you two are referred to by your countrymen? I mean, you two _are_ royalty.”

He sighed as if very frustrated. “They do, yes. But really, _now?_ While the whole country is all messed up? Nuh-uh. She has something going on up here.” He made a face and pointed to his temple. “Now I just wish Wonwoo would wake up so we can collect whatever clue Professor Larking left here and get out. The faster the better.”

For a while, they just sat there, listening to Wonwoo’s breathing getting stronger. Neither Chan nor Junhui willed themselves to leave the room, fearing something might go wrong. Although Wonwoo was doing better. According to Chan, he should be back to normal as fast as tonight. The miracle of the honeydew leaves. Junhui was relieved, to say the very least. That meant they could leave this place by morning with the next clue. In the meantime, the two of them rested, slipping in and out of restless slumber.

By late afternoon, there came some rustling from the patient’s bed.

“Chan?” Wonwoo’s groggy voice broke through the silence.

In a second, Chan scrambled to stand over him, checking to see if how his cousin was doing. Junhui quickly got up from the floor and closed the journal in his hands. Hearing the sound of his footsteps, Wonwoo turned toward him. The gentle smile on his lips disappeared the moment his gaze settled on Junhui. His purple eyes swirled into a defensive silver, and he sat up, flinching from him.

Junhui halted. “What’s the matter?”

Clutching his head as if in great pain, Wonwoo grunted. “Just… stay over there.”

“What?”

On the other side of the room, Chan also cast his cousin a mystified look. “Wonwoo, what’s wrong with you?”

The older scoffed, but a grimace still marred his face. “What’s wrong with _me?_ What’s wrong with _him?_ ” He glared at Junhui. “When you said you couldn’t go into the ocean, I believed you, Junhui. I didn’t think it’d literally come back to stab me in the back.”

This was so not happening.

Panic rose, and his breathing shallowed even as he tried to remain calm.

This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. Wonwoo couldn’t be looking at him with so much hurt and distrust.

“Wonwoo!” Chan cried out. “You can’t possibly think that _Jun_ did this to you!”

“I know what I saw,” he insisted through clenched teeth. Still cradling his head, he screwed his eyes shut, trying hard to control his voice. When he opened his eyes again, the colors kept shifting from purple to silver and gold, unable to settle. His emotions were a mess, that much was clear. “Please,” he gritted out. “For now… just… Please wait outside.”

The words, delivered with the utmost care, still sliced through his heart. Junhui sucked in a breath, lips pressed together as he darted his red eyes to the wall. He couldn’t talk. If he did, he knew his voice would crack. The lump in his throat made it hard to breathe, but he still managed to swallow around it and nod stiffly. Turning around, he fled to the hall, closing the door behind him.

From inside, he heard Chan’s scream. “What the hell, Wonwoo! How can you—Did you hit your head and hallucinate? Jun’s been spending the entire day looking after you, damn it!”

Wonwoo let out a strangled cry, and Junhui’s breath hitched. He balled his hands into fists, resisting the need to run back inside and comfort him. He sounded in so much pain, struggling with something Junhui couldn’t begin to understand. Yes, Junhui was hurting and confused, but what was going on with Wonwoo?

“Oh, man.” Chan sighed, a little helpless as he shuffled around the room. “Okay, just lay back down. You’re bleeding again.”

Junhui nearly turned back, ready to face Wonwoo’s anger if it meant helping Chan heal him, but the moment he looked up from staring at his shoes, Angella Fyre’s face filled his entire view. He nearly shrieked, jumping back. She grinned at him.

“I hear His Highness is awake.” Without waiting for his input, she walked past him and entered the room.

Unlike before, he could no longer hear what was being said. She had most likely cast a silencing spell or whatnot. Junhui banged the back of his head against the wall, closing his eyes. The pain radiating out of his skull told him it wasn’t a nightmare. How did he go from a trusted friend to devious killer? What caused Wonwoo so much anguish?

Something wasn’t right, and Junhui needed to get to the bottom of this.

Not surprisingly, Angella Fyre had no objection to Junhui missing out on dinner. He grabbed some of the snacks from their bags and went to the back of the cottage, where he sat against the wall to eat. He kept a good distance between his spot and the stairs leading to the backdoor. The last thing he needed was to get trampled on.

In the dark, the light from the house formed two distinct yellow squares on the ground, outlining the windows. He sat there for a while after he finished eating, staring at the darkness and the trees swaying back and forth. Although he should know by now, he was still so shocked at the abrupt way his life could come undone within the span of mere hours. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, inclining his head to stare up at the inky sky.

So many stars, as if someone had spilled a bottle of glitter across a navy canvas. Admiring the beautiful sight, he wondered idly if the stars Chan had freed from the bottle on the beach had returned to the sky, shining among these. Were they watching him the same way he was watching them?

His frivolous musings came to a sudden halt when he heard footsteps from inside.

The perfect square of yellow light on the ground was disturbed, turning to a backdrop for two shadows to infringe upon. One male, the other female.

Junhui sat under the window sill as still as he could, not daring to move. The woman walked to the window and opened it. The old hinges creaked loudly in the silence of the woods, causing him to wince at the noise. Tilting his head a little, he could see Angella Fyre lean out to check the area. He stopped breathing. By some stroke of luck, she didn’t notice him, perhaps due to the nearby shrubs and the dark, and she closed the window. He carefully started to breathe again, straining his ears to understand the muffled conversation.

“You’re going with them tomorrow,” she ordered.

“What if... Lee… around?” the other person’s gravelly voice and low volume made it near impossible for him to make out the words, but he picked up Chan’s name, and his stomach twisted.

“Make sure the kid doesn’t see you. He’s very sharp.” Then the other shadow mumbled something, to which she replied, “I’ll take care of it.”

The light dimmed after that, an indication that they took the lantern with them as they left the room. The rest of the house still remained lit, though, so despite his sight turning limited, it was manageable. He was just formulating a way to get Chan’s attention without alerting the witch, when the backdoor creaked.

His heart jumped into his throat, and he fought between running away or blending in with the wall. Had she actually known he was spying on her? Did she come out to silence him for good? Eyes blown wide, he looked up.

Only to see a solid chest.

Junhui blinked vacantly for a few seconds, rewiring his brain to recognize Wonwoo’s figure. He slumped against the wall, tension evaporating. However, the recent events jolted him out of the sense of safety, and he cast Wonwoo a wary look.

The latter hadn’t yet noticed him, eyes roaming around the yard, flickering beyond the flowers and into the woods. At this angle, Junhui couldn’t see the color of his eyes clearly enough to guess the mood he was in, but his posture looked calm. Wonwoo was doing a lot better; Junhui was glad.

As if sensing his gaze, Wonwoo turned toward his form, brows slightly creased. “Junhui?”

“I’m here,” the boy replied cautiously, still not knowing what to expect from this Wonwoo. Although he looked agitated, Wonwoo hid it well. Junhui gripped the top of his knees.

The other closed the door and climbed down the steps to come toward him.

“You look better,” Junhui said, meeting his gaze. He had changed and washed up, rested and fed. Aside from the pinch between his brows, he could almost pass for the usual Wonwoo.

He nodded. “You look... worn out.”

Junhui didn’t need to be told that. He knew he looked like he had crawled out of some gory scene. With everything that went on, he hadn’t even had the chance to wash his face, much less change out of his soiled clothes.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Junhui asked. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll attack you in the dark?” Folding his hand, he mimed a stabbing motion.

Wonwoo sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “Chan told me what happened.”

“Then why does it still look like you’re not convinced?”

“Because it doesn’t add up to what I saw. I want—” No sooner had the words been spoken that Wonwoo groaned and rubbed his forehead. He swore under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Junhui got to his feet. He took a step forward, but Wonwoo backed away, immediately on the defensive. Junhui held his hands to his chest, schooling his face not to show the hurt. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Wonwoo sucked a breath through his teeth, eyes screwed shut for a moment. “I want to believe Chan’s account. And I want to believe you, Jun,” he forced out with great difficulty. Something was off, but Junhui couldn’t figure out what. “But I just… I can’t reconcile the differences.” He spun around and pushed a hand through his hair, trying to get his breathing back to normal. “How would you feel…” he spoke softly. “If I suddenly tried to hurt you?”

“With how things are going, I don’t have to imagine much,” Junhui muttered, unable to stop the sour notes of betrayal from coloring his tone.

Wonwoo turned around. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re not being fair!” Junhui cried. “I don’t know why you keep saying I did something so awful! How could I?” his voice broke, and he pressed a hand over his mouth.

At the sound, Wonwoo’s eyes flashed, and he reached for him. But almost instantly, he let out a startled gasp and halted in his steps.

“Wonwoo?”

“I’m fine,” he panted. “They’re just bursts of headaches.”

Raising his head slowly to sky, he waited for the pain to pass, Junhui guessed. When he looked back at him, his irises shifted through purple, silver, and gold again. There was so much conflict, so much turmoil swirling beneath the calm exterior, Junhui was left speechless. Wonwoo’s fingers twitched, as if wanting to grab onto something, but he curbed the urge by shoving them into his pockets again.

“Tomorrow, she wants something else done,” he began. “I’d like you to stay here and wait for us.”

The request didn’t come completely unexpectedly. Junhui bit back the argument. “Okay, I understand. I wouldn’t want you to think I pushed you down a cliff or something.”

“Junhui…”

“No, it’s fine. If this will help prove my innocence, it’s fine.”

Wonwoo didn’t move as Junhui walked past him to reach the stairs. At the top, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Wonwoo was already staring at him, an unreadable expression settling on his face. Even if he didn’t believe him, Junhui had to tell him what he overheard earlier.

“Whatever task she has you doing tomorrow, you better be careful. I heard her talking to someone a few minutes ago, and she instructed him to keep an eye on Chan, to not be seen. I know Professor Larkin led us here, but how do we know she’s not also working for Warwick?”

Wonwoo had that conflicting look on his face again, scowling in the dark.

“I mean, why is she the only witch still out of jail? Is it because she hid well, or could it be possible that in her desperation to stay free, she struck a deal with him?”

Still unable answer, Wonwoo could only sigh tiredly and rub at his temple. “Professor Larkin has always been very meticulous. It’s highly unlikely that he would trust someone who could switch sides,” he said. “But I’ll be on guard, regardless.”

That was all Junhui could hope for right now.

“Are you coming inside?”

“No. I need to clear my head,” Wonwoo said, heading further toward the trees.

Nodding, Junhui turned around and closed the door behind himself.

The second the mechanism clicked, a blast of cold air blew across his face, extinguishing the candle on the table. Gasping, he staggered against the door. He followed the trail with his eyes to see the wind rattling a few frames on the wall, then it hurled down the hallway.

_What was that?_

A quick look out the window showed that Wonwoo had already left the immediate premises. Which left Junhui alone to decide his next move. Whatever that weird blast of wind was, it went down the hall. There was a door at the end, which led to the basement. Angella Fyre had told them last night. She claimed it was currently flooded. At the time, Junhui hadn’t paid much attention, but in hindsight, it sounded too much like an excuse to keep them from poking around.

Now Junhui had two options. He could go upstairs and pretend like nothing happened, or he could follow the trail and maybe discover what Angella Fyre really hid. He might even come to discover what happened to Wonwoo today.

It took him little to no time to decide.

He grabbed a match box and lit the candle, bringing it along to light his way. He found the entry into the basement, and he gulped at the pitch black path. As much as he wanted to get to the truth, he wasn’t beyond fear for the unknown. What if some creepy monster resided down here? Shuddering, he gathered all his courage and took the first step down the stairs.

Thankfully, he made it down without getting mauled by any supernatural creature. He expected to find another door or a room, but instead he stepped into an empty hallway. No doors, no entrance. Nothing. Everything was built with gray bricks.

Why would anyone have an entrance to an underground hallway with no doors? Something was definitely off. He continued with caution, raising the candle around. It would have helped if he knew what he was looking for, exactly, but since he didn’t, he left most of it to luck. After pacing to the end of the hall twice, he finally noticed a trail of ants on the ground. An ant trail meant food or water, which suggested another room or area close by.

He squatted and used the glow of the candle to see them disappear through the cracks of the right side of the hall. Having caught a tiny clue, he went to inspect the wall. One brick seemed different. Unlike the rest, it protruded slightly, its raised edges casting shadows over the smoother surface.

_Here goes nothing_.

He pushed on it. With a low grumble, a secret door opened. Junhui gasped and quickly went to check it out.

Inside, the room resembled a very old laboratory, fully equipped with flasks, books, documents, shelves, colorful liquids and powder, tongs and gloves. The room itself had aeery glow. It was bright enough that he didn’t trip over items, but his eyes still needed time to adjust to the strange color.

Although he could not see clearly, it was obvious that this lab was used recently. No traces of dust covered his fingertips as he did a quick sweep along the edge of the table. The bookcases and shelves along the walls showed no cobwebs. Standing in the middle of the room, he considered the reasons for Angella Fyre to hide her laboratory from them. They already knew she was a witch. So obviously, it was something else.

As he spun in a small circle, a familiar object on the table across from him begged him closer. He picked up the dagger, head cocked to the side. What was this doing down here? The question ceased to matter to him the moment he set his eyes on another item nearby. A silver necklace holding a blue stone with sapphire swirls.

Ice rolled down his spine as he clutched his throat, frantically searching for the cool metal chain. How did she manage to steal the necklace without none of them even noticing? With haste, Junhui put the candle and dagger down on the table and fastened the clasp around his neck.

“What are you doing here?”

“Eek!” Junhui jumped, whipping around, hand flying to his mouth. But no one was there. Catching his breath, he ambled in place, searching for the source of the male’s voice.

“Down here, kiddo.” Following the voice, he looked down at the counter, where a golden furred rabbit looked at him. Junhui’s eyes turned round, and he stepped closer.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“You’re not hallucinating. I’m Jeonghan. Or Hannie.”

The air caught in his throat. “Y—you’re a talking bunny!” This was insane. Junhui saw the rabbit and his mouth moving, and he heard the words, but he couldn’t put them together.

“For now,” he winked. _The bunny winked at him!_ “I have a human form, too, but this one is cuter, right?” Jeonghan patted his cheeks coquettishly. “But that’s not important right now. You’re Prince Wonwoo’s fiancé, Moon Junnie, aren’t you?”

Junhui’s mouth fell open again.

“Ah, but right now you’re also the framed attempted murderer. Poor, poor kid.”

“Wait, what did you say?”

“Hm?” Jeonghan stopped rubbing his ears. “Did I get it wrong?”

“No, I mean. You said ‘framed.’ How do you know that?”

Winking again, Jeonghan pointed a furry paw at him. “I know a lot of things, kiddo. I see and hear a lot of things.”

“Are you Angella Fyre’s familiar?”

If anyone had told Junhui that a bunny could make a disgusted expression he wouldn’t have believed it. Until now.

“Bleh! No! I just come and go and steal her food and whatever I need. But stop getting me off-topic,” he scolded. Despite being an adorable fluffy bunny, he still had more authority than Junhui. “I know how that hateful woman was able to make your loving prince believe he saw you stab him.” Hopping a little to the side, he patted a bottle of pink powder. “Do you know what a mind-warp enchantment is?”

“Um, I can guess.”

“Then I don’t have to explain the technicalities. She probably sprinkled it in the air when he wasn’t paying attention and twisted his memories to mold into whatever she wanted.”

“Could that be why Wonwoo seems to be in constant pain whenever I was around?” he asked, eyeing that pink bottle with disdain. He knew there was no way Wonwoo would think Junhui stabbed him.

“Mhm.” Jeonghan nodded, rubbing his ears again. “If the mind-warp forces him to believe something that goes completely against his usual thoughts, then it’ll hurt more. Like grinding gears together.” He shuddered.

Junhui gnawed on his lip, thinking of that pained cry Wonwoo had uttered after waking up, of the headaches he endured while talking to Junhui tonight, of the way he had tried to comfort him, only to be tugged away due to the pain. A heavy weight settled over his chest, and Junhui rubbed the spot to ease the discomfort.

“Why would she do something like that?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Jeonghan shrugged his tiny shoulders. “Beats me. She might have a few loose screws, but she has yet to say her plans out loud for me to overhear.”

“Do you know what she has planned for tomorrow?” Junhui needed to know.

Before Jeonghan could reply, the door leading down the lower floor banged open and footsteps traveled down the hallway.

“Hide!” Jeonghan hopped away, looking back at Junhui to follow him. By thelargest bookcase, he motioned for Junhui to push against its side until a small opening sprung open. “Go in and crawl.”

He dropped to his knees. “Where does it lead to?”

“Away from here. Now hurry!”

He crawled into the tunnel and waved Jeonghan in, but he shook his head, standing on his hind legs. “I’ll close the passageway and hold her off for as long as I can, but you better hurry.”

“Thank you,” Junhui whispered.

The footsteps stopped, and they heard the rumble of the secret door in the hall being opened. Jeonghan waved his paws frantically for Junhui to move faster. As soon as he got through, the bookcase shut off the passageway. Just in time. Angella Fyre’s heels clickedagainst the cobblestones. Junhui crawled as fast he could without making a sound.

“Why is this candle here?” she asked, her voice sharp.

_Crap!_ His elbows gave out, and he nearly smacked his teeth on the ground upon hearing her voice echo through the walls.

“How would I know?” Jeonghan answered with a huff. “You leave your shit all over the place.” He kicked something to the floor.

“Watch your smart mouth,” she snapped. “I didn’t leave any candle down here.” Pause. Some shuffling. “What happened to the stone?”

Junhui touched the pendant around his neck and swallowed. Time for him to go at double speed. Determinedly, he crawled. Thanks to his ragged and torn clothes, there was no frill or long sleeves for him to trip on, but still, he moved carefully, avoiding making noise as much as possible.

“What stone?”

“The blue one! I put it right here.” Something else clattered to the floor, making him wince.

“Hm. You really should label your things, you know? Otherwise I could have mistakenly sold it off to the peddler in the woods.” Jeonghan truly was fearless. Scoffing, he added, “Before you cry thief, you should clean up this place. Ew.”

Shuffling and clinking sounds echoed loudly, the tunnel amplifying the sounds. Junhui kept on crawling. After what felt like a good minute or two, Angella Fyre huffed.

“That brat came in here, didn’t he?”

Junhui’s heart jumped out of his chest. Adrenaline pumped into his system, moving his arms and legs faster. _Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go!_

“Who are you talking about?” Jeonghan asked, feigning boredom.

“Don’t play games with me. Where did he go?” The fury was clear in her voice now.

Jeonghan didn’t answer, and Junhui panicked, moving faster, causing a lot more noise than he wished. In the lab, a loud crash made the tunnel shake. He dropped to the ground and covered his head, wincing when pebbles landed on him. 

“Don’t smart-talk me, Jeonghan. You may be a very intelligent creature, but you are currently a rabbit. Don’t force me to catch you and roast you over a fire. Now, what does the little wretch know?”

Another pause while Junhui’s heart continued to beat like bongos. Oh, god. Jeonghan, please say something. He didn’t want his new friend to get hurt just because he tried to answer Junhui’s questions. Could this day get any worse?

Another crash; Junhui flinched. Through the clatter, he heard her walk around, probably kicking things aside. _Dear heavens, how long is this tunnel?!_ Junhui grit his teeth, already feeling guilty about Jeonghan. He had to get out of here and find Chan and Wonwoo. He still didn’t know what her motives were, but they couldn’t stay here any longer. They’ll have to find an antidote for the mind-warp and work on an alternative way to get the clue Professor Larkin left for them.

By this point, Junhui was on his stomach, the top of the tunnel too low to continue on his knees. His arms were aching from the cramped space, his elbows hitting the hard ground of the tunnel. He could already feel the bruises forming.

Finally, he came to the end of the tunnel. But the problem was to know where this was, exactly. If he was lucky, it would be far from Angella Fyre. Otherwise, it could very well lead to her own bedroom. With much effort, he pushed against the stone. If the cleanliness of the tunnel was any indication, it was used very often, so this had to be a viable exit/entrance.

He felt the stone give under his hands. Slowly, slowly... It banged open, and he breathed out in near joy at seeing the familiar room he’d been sharing with the boys. He climbed down from the perch and looked around for the cousins.

Something wasn’t right.

Trepidation rolled down his back as he examined the room. The curtains were pulled tightly across the windows, the lanterns were burnt off. The room was completely empty of life. Their bags were gone, the beds made. No signs of Chan nor Wonwoo. Junhui spun around in a slow circle, trying to understand. But his mind just didn’t compute. His throat felt dry, and his chest tightened.

“Hello, Junhui.”

He whipped around to see Angella Fyre standing casually by the door frame, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders. Seeing his reaction, she smiled slyly and came in.

“Where are they?” he asked, keeping his voice level, eyes glued on her every move.

She waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss his question. “I sent them out early to their next task to give us some time to chat.”

Junhui backed away against the wall and started to move toward the door.

“What do you want?”

Her head cocked to one side, she said, “I see you got your necklace back.” She sighed, feigning regret. “I should have known you would find it eventually,” she mused, following him with her stare.

“Why did you even take it?” He had to keep her talking, at least keep her partially distracted until he could come up with a plan.

“How about,” she began, “I tell you everything you’d like to know in exchange for a little help?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of help?”

“Nothing out of your control. In fact, it would keep the boys alive.” She shrugged as if it was an insignificant matter. And it probably was to her.

His stomach twisted, but he feigned composure. “So what? My life for theirs?” He moved over the vanity and stopped, grabbing the pitcher firmly behind his back.

“Oh, no. That would be too simple.” She made her point by laughing heartily.

He took his chance and hurled the pitcher at her. Not waiting to see if it hit the target, he sprinted for the exit.

His feet didn’t even make it to the threshold, a yard away. The pitcher laid in the corner, vaporized to dust.

She grabbed him by the hair and yanked. Junhui cried out in pain, losing his balance. Releasing his hair, she shifted to grip his throat, her cold and claw-like fingers digging into his skin as she lifted him off the floor as if he were nothing but a mere doll. He kicked and scratched, trying to peel her hand from his throat. All to no avail.

“Do not play with me, boy. You will lose.”

At that second, her whole arm began to glow a sickening orange, the color slowly radiating toward her hand, toward his throat. Junhui shut his eyes, preparing for a slow and painful burn, a throbbing ache, or even a searing slash. But nothing. He opened his eyes to see the irritated frustration plain on her face. With a disgusted scoff, she tossed him across the floor.

Coughing and wheezing, he put his hands where hers has been on his throat. Apart from the discomfort, there was no trace of burn or any other injury.

“Those damn rings!” she cursed. “For as long as they are active, you are immune to black magic.” Putting a hand to her forehead, she laughed bitterly.

“Why are you even interested in me?” This made absolutely no sense.

“Because, my dear,” she smiled wickedly again, “you are the very key to get to Prince Wonwoo’s powers.”

“You don’t need me for that.”

“On the contrary. The farther he is from you and that stone,” she pointed at his throat, “the easier it is. At the least, it would make him more susceptible to black magic.”

That would explain how Wonwoo got attacked without even noticing the danger. She had already removed the stone from Junhui’s neck at that point. It would also explain how she could have warped his mind. Normally, he wouldn’t have been affected. Moreover, he would have sensed something right away, instead of succumbing to it. With his magic become unstable, he became an easier target.

“Why are you telling me this?” Junhui wanted to know. “All I have to do is stick by his side.” This was too simple.

She cackled. “Why, you just don’t see it, do you?” More laughing. “I am willing to make you an offer for his life and Chan’s. As of right now, they are about fifty miles from here. More than far enough from you and that stone for me to swoop in and kill him to collect his powers.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He couldn’t follow her line of thoughts. Was she just taunting his helplessness?

“There is a small setback to taking someone’s powers once they are dead.” She spoke so freely and remorseless about murder, he couldn’t help shivering. “They are a tad harder to control than powers harvested from a wielder who is alive and breathing.” She looked at him, her smile turning even more twisted. “That’s where you come in. If you can make your precious prince lose his grip on his magic, then I’ll let him and his cousin live.” Shrugging, she added, “If you refuse or can’t get the job done, then I’ll resort to killing both of them and collecting his powers that way. A small inconvenience, but I’ll make do. So Junhui, what shall it be?”

“Be convincing. We don’t want him to come back to the cottage afterward.” She leveled Junhui with a hard stare. “He might really get himself killed if he discovers the truth and decides to confront me without his powers, hm?”

Junhui nodded vacantly, chest heavy and stomach in knots. He rubbed a hand over the new shirt he had changed into, hoping to use up some of the restlessness.

Satisfied with his response, she pulled him along to find Wonwoo and Chan. Ironically, this task involved a cliff.

Dawn broke, the sky beginning to turn lighter at the edge of the horizon. It would have made a beautiful sight if Junhui didn’t feel like throwing up, heartbeat erratic. The cousins stood at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the waves below. What was she making them do? Cliff diving?

Angella Fyre stopped some yards away, yanking on his arm. Neither Wonwoo nor Chan had spotted them, yet. Junhui took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, placing a hand over his tummy. He couldn’t believe that after all this time, he was actually going to lie to Wonwoo. Angella Fyre might have warped Wonwoo’s perception and driven him to distrust Junhui, but the former had still unconsciously tried to reject the lies, deep down believing that Junhui would never do anything to harm him.

Now Junhui would really betray that trust. He’ll be responsible for the loss of Wonwoo’s powers—his means of setting his parents and country free. His very future.

He took in a shuddering breath to steady himself.

Angella Fyre was a selfish bully, but she knew where to hit people to get the maximum damage.

At that moment, Wonwoo casually shifted his stance, back facing the rising sun. He looked majestic, warm sunshine cast upon him to make him glow against the backdrop of the sky. Then as if sensing someone’s gaze on him, Wonwoo lifted his head. Their eyes met, and Junhui sucked in a breath. Because of the distance and lighting, he couldn’t see Wonwoo’s face clearly, but there was something else other than surprise.

“Junhui?” Wonwoo’s voice carried over the silence. Next to him, Chan looked over, eyes widening. “What are you doing here?” Only then did he seem to notice the witch behind Junhui, and his expression hardened.

“I, uh.” Junhui cleared his throat, voice tight. “I need to talk to you.”

Wonwoo nodded, waiting for him to go on, but Junhui turned to Angella Fyre and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I can’t do it if you hover over me.”

“Fine.” Before releasing him, though, her nails dug a little deeper into his arm, making him wince. “Don’t forget what I said. I will get my hands on his powers no matter what. Tell him anything unnecessary, and you both will pay for young Chan’s life.”

Junhui nodded curtly, then jerked his arm away. She didn’t need to remind him of what was at stake here. As he approached the cousins, he made sure not to meet their gazes, keeping his eyes low, hoping it’ll make things easier. Although he didn’t look directly at him, he still noticed Wonwoo’s back turn rigid as the latter eyed her on the fringe of the woods. He didn’t say anything, though, as he followed after Junhui.

Finally, the pair stopped at the edge of the cliff, and Junhui slowly turned around to face him. He opened his mouth to recite the speech he’d been practicing in his head, eyes still glued the ground. But before the first word could be uttered, Wonwoo tilted his face upward by the chin.

Upon meeting his puzzled gaze, Junhui lost his grip on the act. The words wouldn’t come out. His throat was closing up.

“What are you doing here with her?” Wonwoo asked, amethyst eyes searching his face.

Hesitantly, he stammered, “S-she’s, um. She’s going to help me go… home.”

“What?” Wonwoo let go of his face, eyes swirling a deeper shade.

Junhui reeled, scrambling to piece together the practiced lines. “I—I—I want to go home, a-and she says she can take me back.”

Wonwoo shook his head before Junhui finished talking. “What do you mean you want to go home? A week ago, you said—”

“A week ago, I wasn’t accused of attempted murder,” Junhui interjected, doing his best to harden his voice. “If you’re not even going to believe me, how can I stay?” This hurt. Junhui was lying, and Wonwoo can never find out.

“Jun…”

This time, when Junhui looked at him, his eyes were damp. Tears of shame and guilt, of sorrow. But as far as Wonwoo understood, they were signs of regret. “I can’t stay anymore. But I’m glad to have helped you even a little.” Sniffling, he rubbed at his stinging eyes, blinking a few times as he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out the riddle journal. “Here.”

Wonwoo nodded absentmindedly and closed his fingers over Junhui’s as he took the journal. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s for the best,” Junhui answered. He owed him at least that truth.

“When are you leaving?”

“Uh, in a few minutes, I suppose.” His voice was breaking; he cleared his throat, trying to find something else to talk about. “So what is she making you do today?” he sniffled.

When Wonwoo didn’t answer right away, Junhui looked up to find him watching Angella Fyre, who was staring intently at Junhui. “Nothing. We’re done; we got the next clue. I just need to get to the bottom of the cliff.” He directed his gaze back to Junhui.

“Don’t jump down to get it,” Junhui told him. With or without powers, that was a very dangerous stunt.

“You don’t think I can make it?” he asked, a smirk faint on his lips. Even at a time like this he still managed to sound smug. Or maybe it was just something he needed to do to mask the hurt.

“You won’t go very far with broken limbs,” Junhui told him with a frown.

Wonwoo paused for a second, as if collecting his thoughts. “Junnie,” he sounded hopeful all of a sudden, and Junhui panicked. “The clue is within our reach. We can leave this all behind and forget about it. The three of us can move on.” He reached for Junhui’s hand.

_Oh, god._ Why did it have to be so difficult and painful? Why did the mind-warp have to lose its effects now?

“I can’t just forget about it, Wonwoo.” He wracked his brain with excuses. “I—I—I mean, what will happen in the next town? I can’t lead a life so unpredictable. I have to go. I’m sorry.” Junhui let go of his hand and walked away, but Wonwoo reached out and pulled him back.

“Wait.”

The surprise in combination with his tangled emotions caused him to lose his balance. Wonwoo caught him, though, hands and arms steadying him, drawing him against his chest in a loose hug. The tenderness was too much, and the dam on his quickly eroding composure burst. Junhui gripped the back of Wonwoo’s shirt and burrowed against his neck. An errant tear slipped down his cheek, and he breathed out shakily.

“I’ll miss you, Wonwon.” His voice was reduced to a whisper, cracking at the end. He squeezed him tighter, hugging him for the final time, feeling Wonwoo’s embrace responding. “Goodbye.” This time, when Junhui pulled away, Wonwoo let him go.

“Goodbye, Junhui.”

Unable to look at him, Junhui kept his head downcast and ran off. A short distance away, Chan watched the scene with confusion. He called out to his friend, seeing the distraught state he was in. But Junhui waved his hand in the air, dismissing it with a wet laugh. “Wonwoo will explain,” he told him, hugging the boy to him and wishing him luck.

“Jun—”

“Now that you’ve found the next clue, please don’t return to her cottage,” he said, wiping his face roughly. “The sooner you leave this place, the better, okay?”

Chan still looked upset, but he nodded.

Junhui patted his cheek and smiled.

By the time he returned to Angella Fyre’s side, he could feel their gazes burn into his back. He ignored it as best as he could, fighting the urge to squirm and look back.

“Bravo. Very believable,” she sneered, yanking on his arm to enter the woods.

It wasn’t until Junhui looked fully at her and saw the glass sphere in her palm that he understood the reason behind her merry laughter. The ball quickly filled up with purple smoke, tiny and shiny sparks floated around the smoke, the delicate wisps coiling and twisting around.

His eyes widened. “You took his powers? Already? But I thought you said—”

“I didn’t need to wait for us to get back to the cottage. He’s already so shaken up, he wouldn’t notice if someone snuck up and slit his throat.” Junhui gulped at that mental image, drowning in guilt and shame. “Whatever you told him, it worked. I underestimated his affection for you. Now let’s go.”

“No, wait! You can’t take his powers now!” Junhui shouted, pulling against her hand to look back toward the way they came. “He’s going to jump down the cliff to get that next clue, he’ll die without his powers.” He clawed and peeled her fingers off of him, but to no avail. She just kept him moving. “You can’t take them away!”

“That is a regrettable turn of events, but it’s not my problem anymore. I gave you my word that I will not take his life, and I did not. There is nothing I can do for him if he decides to put his own life in jeopardy.”

“But he has no idea his powers are gone. He’s going to get himself killed!” he shouted. “I need to warn him! Wonwoo—!”

Having enough of him, she clicked her tongue. Instantly, two shadowy brutes appeared from thin air and braced themselves at his sides. She flung him away, and the shadows captured his arms, locking them in place behind his back. Something cold slithered around his head, tightening around his mouth as he fought against the restraints.

“Take him to the tower,” she ordered. With a wave of her arm, they landed back at the cottage. “And make sure he stays down there until I say so.”

The two shadows yanked on his arms, tugging him toward the other side of the house. Meanwhile, she headed down the stairs to the lab.

_What have I done? I probably killed the one person who ever trusted me with his life._

What were the chances that Wonwoo was still alive? He had no reason to doubt his powers. After Junhui left, he probably jumped down the cliff to retrieve the clue. And then…

Junhui sucked in a breath, but he couldn’t breathe. His legs stopped working. His entire body turned limp, forcing his captors to drag him like dead weight. Not only did he betray Wonwoo, he killed him. Junhui killed Wonwoo. Tears sprung out of his eyes and blinded him. His chest caved in.

With a hysterical and bitter laugh, he finally understood what Wonwoo had meant every time he told Junhui that he could never forgive himself for causing all the deaths of innocent people. It truly was impossible to forgive.

Arriving before a giant wooden door, one of the brutes retrieved a key. The door slammed open, and they dragged Junhui out onto a metal platform hanging a hundred feet above water. The diameter of this tower measured over fifty feet, with a spiral staircase placed at the other end of the platform. The walls were made out of solid bricks, with six single slits running horizontally around the ceiling as windows.

They started the descent, his feet clanging against the metal with each step. He tried to look for anything that would help him escape. A lose brick, an opening somewhere, a sharp object. But his hope diminished bit by bit the closer they moved toward the water.

It was freezing, chilling his toes, soaking easily through the cotton of his clothes. Still, they forced him further down the stairs. He gasped at the sharp temperature of the water, the cold gradually climbing higher up his body with each step taken. He strained his neck, hoping with all his might that he could keep his head above water by the time his feet reached the bottom of the tower.

His luck didn’t run out completely. The level reached just below his clavicles. But that was really all the reprieve he was offered. Not even a full minute in, that his teeth were chattering from the icy liquid. His knees buckled under him, but the two fiends paid no mind. They hauled him easily through the water until they got to the other façade of the wall. There, Junhui was chained to the wall with his arms above his head, then without a warning, they disappeared into thin air. Just like that, he was alone. At least the gag was removed. Not that it’ll do any good. It wasn’t like anyone would hear his screams. He’d just exhaust himself even faster.

Sighing, he jerked against the heavy chains. He probably deserved this. Dying alone,emerged in freezing water. He rested his head on the hard stones. What kind of idiot makes a deal with a witch just to end up locked away to rot while his friends were probably dead? Panic and fear made for the worst combination of stupidity. How could he have let this happen? _Ugh, Jun, you idiot!_ He banged his arms against the chains, scratching himself at the same time.

“Oh, great. Infection. Let’s see what kills me first,” he muttered.

Overhead, something seemed to be rolling across the surface of the platform. He looked up, expecting a bottle of some sort hitting the water at any moment. But instead, he saw a small figure scampering along before a small furry face looked over the edge.

“Jeonghan?” Junhui asked tentatively, squinting up.

“Thought I heard you, kid. You really know how to get into trouble, don’t you?” Then the rabbit disappeared, prompting Junhui to look everywhere for him. A moment later, Jeonghan was floating in the air.

“Wha—” So many thoughts ran through his mind. He had to pick the most imminent one. “I thought you were—”

“What? That I was done for?” Jeonghan laughed as he reached him. “It takes more than that to get rid of me.” Landing on the boy’s shoulder, he sat down and brushed out his fur. “Flying always gives me static hairs.”

Junhui could only stare in awe. So the bunny really did float all the way from the top.

“So what happened? Where are Prince Wonwoo and little Channie? Hiding somewhere?” Hopping up, Jeonghan sat to the top of Junhui’s head and started to pick at the lock. At least, that was what it sounded like. Jeonghan swatted him when he tried to raise his head to look. “Sit still. So where are they?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then choked. “I might have killed Wonwoo, Hannie. I tricked him into losing his powers, and now…”

The tears stung his eyes, but he bit them back, swallowing the lump in his throat. Above him, he heard the bunny sigh, before the shackles clicked open. His arms fell numbly through the water. Finally realizing he was free, he pulled his hands out of the water. Sure enough, two big cut already bled out on his wrists.

“Thank you.”

A soft paw patted his hair gently. “Let’s worry about getting out of here first, okay?”

“Okay.” He sighed. “Do you know where the witch is?”

“Last I saw her, she was in the lab downstairs. If we’re lucky, she won’t come out and you can escape out the door.” Junhui carried the bunny in his arms and started toward the stairs.

“Before that, I need to find her.”

“I thought the idea was to run away from the evil witch.”

“I know, but I can’t let her get away with his powers. Even if he’s...” Junhui shook his head, redirecting his thoughts. “She can’t keep those powers. We need to find that glass ball. It’s the least I can do.”

Once they reached the door, Jeonghan somehow worked the lock, and they snuck out. Hiding in corners and behind walls, they managed to get to the door of the basement. But just as Junhui attempted to leave his hidden spot, the door burst open. He squeaked and huddled back behind a big water barrel. About a dozen shadows flew out, Angella Fyre’s furious shouts preceding her appearance.

He shrunk further down.

“How did he get out? How hard is it to keep guard on a measly boy?! Find him. I need that stone.” She stormed away.

“Let’s go,” he whispered and carried Jeonghan through the passage. He ran to the secret door and pushed on the rock.

Inside the lab, he set Jeonghan down on the nearest surface and began to frantically search the entire room. He flipped stacks of papers, opened drawers, digging through the mess of instruments and half-used ingredients.

“What does it look like?” Jeonghan asked, also ruffling through the things.

Going through the shelves, Junhui came across an odd book. “It’s a glass ball with purple smoke and shiny particles inside.” The book did not appear to be from the same genre at all. It was a cookbook. Angella Fyre was the last person he would suspect to learn how to bake apple pies. He moved on.

_Wait a minute. Apple pies. Apple. Apple tree. The key from the Royal Library!_

Whipping around, he pulled the book out. It was as if someone had planted it there, unsuspected. Opening the cover, he realized that this was, in fact, no ordinary book. The first page contained the exact riddle that led them here: _I need food and air to survive, but I consider water poison. I can bring you warmth or burn you. Who am I?_

Water as poison… Junhui chewed on his bottom lip as he stared at the riddle. 

Could all those myths about killing a witch with water be true? Next page. He hadn’t expected to see recipes for apple pies, but he expected to find a small bottle nestled in the cut out pages even less. Full of confusion, he gingerly dug the bottle out. It looked empty, but something was written on the bottom. He squinted, trying to make out the strokes. With how faded the ink had become, it was nearly impossible.

“Junnie, at your feet!”

He looked down just as the glass ball rolled toward him.

The first miracle. His spirits soared. Dropping to his haunches, he flipped the book open and pressed the bottle back inside to protect it from damage. Then he picked up the glass ball, joy and relief overflowing when he saw the purple smoke still inside. She hadn’t managed to take them yet.

Tucking the book under one arm, he picked Jeonghan up and ran for the exit. “Thank you so much, Hannie!”

“Don’t thank me, yet. We gotta get out of here alive first.”

In the hallway, the shouting from above was strangely clear and loud. No one knew where Junhui was, and Angella Fyre was beyond livid. He and Jeonghan heard stomping, then howling, before something crashed into the walls.

“Come on! This way!” Jeonghan directed, managing to hang onto the boy’s shoulder as Junhui sprinted down the hall. There was another way out of the basement, through yet a different tunnel that opened to the outside.

At the end of that tunnel, Junhui pushed out into the green grass and the blue sky. He looked around, searching for any kind of well or water reservoir. The water barrel inside the house!

“I gotta go back inside,” he told Jeonghan as he crawled around the corner.

“What?! We finally got out!”

“I’m going to prove the myth that witches can be killed with water. You can stay here.” He reached for the bunny, but a soft paw hit his hand.

Shocked, he looked down.

“If I leave you alone, you’ll get yourself killed,” Jeonghan grumbled. “Now get this thing around me so I don’t fall off.”

Obeying, Junhui quickly tied one of the ribbons of his shirt around the bunny’s stomach, checking that it wasn’t too tight. Jeonghan nodded, gripping the ends with his little paws and settled himself on Junhui’s shoulder.

The boy snuck back inside without much trouble. Angella Fyre and her minions were running around, no one manned the front door. Still, he practiced the utmost caution, Jeonghan acting as his second set of eyes. They made it to the hallway leading to the basement again. Spotting the water barrel, he let out a small sigh of relief. Now all he had to do was find a container to carry the water to her, he mused, approaching the tank.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Junhui gasped, whipping around. Angella Fyre had seemingly materialized out of thin air, backed by her troop of shadow people. She glared at him, eyes immediately darting to his hand and the glass ball. She growled and marched forward.

“Hey!” Junhui raised it above his head. “Another step and I break it,” he warned.

“It won’t do him any good if he’s dead,” she hissed.

“You’re not getting your hands on this.” He clutched it tighter inside his palm. While keeping close tabs on her, he moved slowly behind the tank.

“Stop wasting my time. You’re clearly outnumbered here,” she smiled, but it was clear something wasn’t right. Maybe that myth had more credit than he thought.

“Really? Then I should hurry it up, then.” Needing to free one of his hands, he stuffed the glass ball into his pocket, then turned over the heavy lid of the barrel. Water splashed out lightly. The shadows behind him retreated at the drops on the floor. “Huh, what do you know. Maybe water does kill witches.”

Her voice wavered just barely, but she still retreated a few steps. “And what do you plan on doing if it doesn’t work?”

“Haven’t thought of it that far.”

Before either one of them could change their minds, Junhui shoved the tank over. She shrieked, trying to get away, but it was too late. The tank landed on the floor with a loud _bang!_ , the water spilling out in a giant wave that crashed into her from head to toe. Her screams turned shrill, but she still stood in one piece.

In that initial second, Junhui really regretted not thinking up of an alternative plan in case this didn’t work. However, in the very next moment, smoke began to rise from her body. White and thick smoke flew up from her soaked hair and drenched clothes. Panting, she frantically patted herself down, probably conjuring up some kind of spell, but it only seemed to make the smoke turned thicker. Her skin began to boil, flesh rotting away, pulling more agonized cries and sobs from her.

He had never heard anything so pained and awful. Reflexively, he raised his hands to cover his ears.

Panicked eyes roamed around the room, searching for help, for anyone to save her as she wobbled on her unsteady legs. Her gaze settled on Junhui, the one responsible for her downfall. “Please, help me,” she wailed, bleeding arm reaching for him.

The fear and the remorse coiled inside of him, and Junhui let out a whimper, backing away, eyes screwed shut. More smoke whirled around her thin figure, strangling her, cutting off her screams into choked up sounds. Blood gurgled out of her mouth, and she dropped to her knees, writhing and twitching.

Unable to withstand the nightmarish scene, he tried to back away, to get away. He bumped into the wall, and his feel nudged into something.

“Junnie, we need to get out of here _now!”_

He looked down at his shoulder. Jeonghan was laying on his stomach, definitely woozy. “R-right.” He cradled the bunny in one hand as he turned to pick up the fake book on apple pies.

As fast he could make his legs work, he ran out of the house. By now, the smoke had filled the entire cottage. He hadn’t felt it earlier, but now it swirled around him, curling its away to his throat and nose. He coughed, pressing his sleeve over his nose, shielding Jeonghan against his neck. The smoke didn’t have any smell, but it burned his nasal passages, leaving behind a bitterness he couldn’t explain.

Something crackled and exploded behind him. Gasping, he felt his way around, finally reaching the doorknob. Not a second too soon. The moment he yanked the door open, something else caught fire. The blast sent him flying a few feet in the air. He landed on the soft grass and tumbled. The cottage had caught fire, black smoke coalescing with the bitter white, turning his vision blurry as tears sprung out. He coughed, shielding his head from another explosion. He crawled away, pushing his legs under him and took off running.

“H-Hannie?” he called, his throat thick of that smoke. Coughing a few more times, he wiped away the tears brought on by the black smoke of the smoldering wood. He felt for the ball of fluff on his shoulder. Thanks to the ribbon, he hadn’t lost his friend in the fall. “Hannie, are you okay?”

He felt more than he heard Jeonghan respond, his little paw twitching in an attempt to reassure Junhui. “Shh, it’s okay.” He coughed some more, flinching from the damage of the fire as he turned to look behind him. Bright and angry flames were engulfing the cottage, sending terrifying columns of black smoke into the air.

He ran through the woods until he couldn’t anymore. The adrenaline was running out, and the fatigue soon took its place. His eyes still stung from the smoke, blurry with tears and soot. He didn’t see the protruding tree root, and he tripped. A searing ache was making its way from his knees and elbows as he laid there, just breathing.

Groaning, he got on all fours and crawled to a flatter area. “Hannie? You still with me?” He received a soft squeak, the bunny nudging against his neck. That was good enough for him.

Exhausted, he dropped to the ground, one hand holding the rabbit to his chest. He had no idea how long he laid there, trying to steady his breathing, but suddenly a shadow fell over his face.

“Junhui?”

He froze, heart lurching out his chest upon hearing the familiar voice. _No. No no no._ He was definitely hallucinating. Was he dead? Was this heaven?

Hands shaking, he slowly pulled his wrist away from his face and slowly opened his eyes. He squinted, then blinked vacantly at the familiar face, still not quite able to compute the sight with what it meant. He couldn’t believe. He just gaped, breath coming in faster and more shallow the longer he stared at him.

The latter dropped to his haunches, hand a little hesitant as he reached for Junhui, as if afraid of spooking a small animal. “You’re okay,” he whispered, seemingly more to reassure himself than speaking with Junhui.

A soft whine spilled from his lips as the hand cupped his cheek. _This was real, right?_ Junhui closed his eyes, nuzzling into the warm and familiar touch.

“Shh… I got you, princess.” And just like that, Wonwoo scooped him up and walked off.

Junhui clutched at his collar, face burrowing into his shoulder. He could finally feel his chest expand, mind soothed, and heart appeased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH SO HOW WAS IT???
> 
> so much happened, idk what to even comment on lol. but see??? wonwoo is GOOD™ 
> 
> also hello, hannie ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾ hahahaha
> 
> also also: wonu definitely liked it and put a ring on it 😏💍 junnie just strutting along knowing NOTHING though pfffftttt 
> 
> if anyone is wondering WHY there was a giant tank of water in the house: small amounts isn't going to hurt her. she's a witch, but she still needs water for stuff and spells. if jun had dumped a bucket on her head, she would have recovered. so he was lucky lol. and to be clear: wonu is not a witch/warlock. his powers come from the actual land--as in the story of how serenity woods became magical~ angella fyre is more... mythical? the same way unicorns and mermaids are. (that's why wonu and the others are called "magic wielders"--they're normal humans, but they're just born with powers from the land). ANYWAY. if you have questions about the lore and stuff, feel free to ask me! :D
> 
> as always, thank you very much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! take care, everyone!  
> xoxoxo


	14. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junnie slowly coming to realize how important he actually is to Wonwoo. WonHuiChan solve a couple riddles and move on to the next location.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue SVT "Fear"* hahaha
> 
> i'm sorry the chapter is late, you guys 😔 i had to run errands. but the chapter is here! yayay!!!
> 
> i hope you'll like it!
> 
> WARNING: blood is mentioned, in case anyone is squimish
> 
> -

Junhui stirred awake to find himself laying inside a makeshift sleeping bag consisting of blankets. A few feet away, a small fire had been built, and a kettle of hot water sat on a rock nearby. The sun still shone high above the treetops, so he surmised that he only dozed off for a short moment. Settling in the familiar blankets, he breathed out, reliving the events of the past twenty-four hours. As much as he griped about the unfortunate events that seemed to follow him everywhere, he couldn’t help but feel thankful, as well. Not only had he survived, Wonwoo was alive, and he found him.

Now that the fogginess of sleep had dissipated, indistinct voices floated in the air. He couldn’t spot anyone within sight in the clearing, so he guessed the cousins must be out collecting firewood or something nearby.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Chan asked.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. I may look like this, but I’m no easy prey,” Jeonghan replied.

In response, a burst of energy flew through Junhui’s body. _Jeonghan was safe!_

The bunny continued, “That smoke just took us by surprise, that’s all.”

“You’re welcome to stay longer and rest,” Wonwoo offered. “After all, we owe you our lives.”

Jeonghan laughed. “Ah, as great as it is to hear Prince Wonwoo say he’s in my debt, all I did was try to keep Junnie out of trouble. He shouldered all the hard work himself. Take good care of him, hm? His heart is very soft. He was really shaken up when he thought he’d lost you.”

_Oh, geez. Hannie, stop talking!_

With great effort, Junhui gritted his teeth against the soreness in his muscles and pushed the blankets off.

“I—Yes,” Wonwoo mumbled.

“Anyway, I must be off!” Jeonghan announced. “My mates should be waiting back in the burrow.”

“Your… mates?” Chan repeated hesitantly. “As in, plural?”

Jeonghan laughed. “I’ll introduce you some day. And I’ll also collect that ‘I owe you’ then, too,” he kid. “Farewell!” He began to hop away, his voice sounding a little more faint with the distance. “Don’t forget to send me a wedding invitation!”

Junhui nearly doubled-over, and not only because of a sudden searing pain on the side of his leg. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t felt it until now, but it was all he could focus on at the moment. Wincing and hissing, he inched his hip upward to see blood seeping into the fabric of his pants. He grimaced. Considering the seriousness of the cut, it was very unlikely that Wonwoo didn’t notice it when he dropped Junhui off earlier. And seeing as Junhui was able to sleep so soundly, Wonwoo must have given him something like magical anesthesia.

He poked at the gash again, wincing. He guessed this probably happened at some point during the escape. A few tiny shards of glass remained stuck to the bloodied fabric. This was the pocket in which he had shoved the glass ball with Wonwoo’s powers. When he fell, it shattered. With the adrenaline coursing through him then, he hadn’t felt a thing.

Sighing, he looked around. It would be more than easy to let Wonwoo heal him, but the problem was the location of the wound. In order to reach it, Junhui would need to strip, and that was less than ideal. The mere thought of letting Wonwoo see him half naked shot his body temperature to a feverish point. He shook his head, biting back a pained cry as he pushed himself up. But that wasn’t the only reason.

Even though they were all safe now, Junhui couldn’t get rid of the guilt and shame of his actions, of his betrayal.

Before the cousins returned to camp, Junhui would go to find some honeydew leaves and take care of it himself. He dug in their bags for another set of clothes and limped away. Sadly, he didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Jeonghan and thank him, but he hoped that they’ll meet again someday.

He set off for the trees, away from the source of indistinct voices from earlier. His thoughts were a jumbled mess at the moment, and perhaps taking a short walk will do him good in that aspect, too. Optimistically speaking, the trek would not only save him from embarrassment, it’ll also allow him to reflect and consider how he’ll able to face the cousins now. Would they be upset with him? Would they be disappointed? Junhui wanted to see them; he had so many questions. But he was afraid of their reactions. Wonwoo had been more than kind when he found Junhui, but that was just how he was a person—kind and considerate. Plus, Junhui had basically collapsed from exhaustion. It was rather difficult to be angry at a sleeping person.

Sighing, he took a break, panting a little from the effort and the pain. He knew he was stalling the inevitable, but he’ll prolong it as long as he could. Now where could those yellow leaves be? He placed the change of clothes on a tree stump and wandered off, picking up a stick to poke around with it. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally disturb a snake or some other wild animal. He was in the midst of checking the area behind a large shrub with white flowers when he heard the cousins returning to camp. A small jolt shocked him into moving faster, shuffling along with his stick.

“This should be plenty of firewood, right?” Chan asked, dumping the twigs and branches onto the ground. “Hey! Jun’s gone!”

Wonwoo sighed tiredly in response. “He couldn’t have gone far with that leg.”

“You should have healed him earlier.”

“I didn’t want to strip him without him even knowing.”

Junhui reddened in response, pressing a hand over his flushed cheek.

“But it was an emergency!” Chan cried.

“It’s not like I left him in pain,” Wonwoo retorted. “Anyway, stay put. I’ll go find him.”

As expected, no matter how hard Junhui tried to move along, it didn’t take long for Wonwoo to find and catch up with him. It took all of his self-control not to run away. Self-control and the bleeding gash on the side of his leg.

Upon seeing him, Wonwoo sighed, a little exasperated, but seemingly not angry. “Jun, why are you wandering around the woods in that state? Come on. We’re going back to camp.”

“N-no, it’s okay! I’m fine!” he claimed, keeping his back to him. “You can go back first. I’ll be there as soon as I find some honeydew leaves.”

“You’re straining yourself,” Wonwoo stated. “Whatever small amount of energy you’ve regained is quickly draining, and you’re undoubtedly worsening your injury.”

Junhui continued to putter along, waving his stick in the bushes. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“It’ll only take two seconds for me to heal you.”

“You don’t need to.”

Wonwoo heaved a heavy sigh, and Junhui winced internally, afraid he might have really annoyed him now. He braced himself for the harsh yelling. Instead, what he heard was a gentle question: “Do you hate me now?”

Junhui whipped around so fast, he nearly lost his balance. “No! How can you say that?”

Wonwoo approached slowly, hands stuffed into his pockets. “I’m simply interpreting the situation. After… what happened, I understand if you don’t want me near you again.”

Chest tight, Junhui gazed at him. “That’s not… I don’t feel that way at all.”

“Then let me heal you.”

He couldn’t look at Wonwoo’s face. If he did, he’d agree to nearly everything Wonwoo asked. In his panic, he shut his eyes. “N-no.”

“Then give me a reason. A _good_ one.”

Junhui wobbled away again. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

“Then I’ll closed my eyes.”

Was it him, or did Wonwoo try to suppress a laugh? At any rate, Junhui waved his arms in a shooing motion. “It’s fine! I’m fine.”

“Junnie,” he sighed again.

Maybe he was a bit overzealous in his attempt to prove to Wonwoo that he could manage on his own. Or maybe it was just that he couldn’t really move around with a limp. Whatever the reason, his foot caught around a fallen branch, and he fell forward.

“Eeep!” he squeaked, eyes squeezed on instincts.

He landed on something warm and solid.

“Honestly,” Wonwoo muttered, steadying him, but refusing to let go once Junhui could stand again. “Now that we’ve established how dangerous this is, will you please tell me the real reason you’re being so difficult?”

Unable to meet his gaze, Junhui fidgeted with his sleeves, face downcast. “I… I don’t deserve to be healed.” He felt Wonwoo startle at that piece of admission. “It was my fault that you lost your powers in the first place,” he continued in a small voice. “Moreover, even though you got them back, you have to be exhausted, too. I don’t want you to use them on me.”

This time, when Wonwoo sighed, it carried a touch of fondness along with the exasperation. He held Junhui around the shoulders and shifted so they could be looking at each other, then he cradled his face and lifted it.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, princess,” he said, eyes clear and tender.

“But I did!” Junhui insisted. “You trusted me, and I lied—”

Wonwoo cut him off. “I’m the one who owes you an apology, for things I said, for the way I behaved—”

“Now _that_ is definitely not your fault,” Junhui interrupted, mouth twisted to the side as he pouted. “She used a creepy mind-control enchantment on you. Plus, Hannie explained why you were hurting so much every time we talked, too.”

“But I shouldn’t have let my guard down,” Wonwoo said, shaking his head. “I should have noticed that she took the necklace. This disaster could have been prevented.”

“It’s not like you were negligent,” Junhui remarked. “Besides, we still won in the end!” He grinned, hoping it would lift Wonwoo’s mood, too. “And we got the clues we needed!”

It worked. A little. Wonwoo offered him a small smile. “Always so positive.”

Still grinning, he nodded proudly. “Of course! One of the few good attributes going for me.”

Wonwoo’s eyes flickered over him, a glint to them. His voice dropped, and the hint of a smirk appeared. “I’d beg to differ.”

Heat shot through Junhui’s body, and he floundered. Cheeks red, he turned his head to search around the area. “Um, a-anyway. Let’s hurry up and find those golden leaves. My leg is really starting to hurt.”

“Just let me—”

“No!”

Wonwoo sighed, clearly dissatisfied, but eventually relented. Although he still didn’t let Junhui exert himself. He made the latter sit on the tree stump while he searched for the honeydew leaves.

“So how did you know not to jump down the cliff?”

They were back at camp now, his leg finally getting they honeydew leaves it desperately needed applied to the cuts and bandaged tightly. On a normal day, the healing process would only require a few minutes for an injury of this caliber, since the wound wasn’t deep; however, they weren’t able to find mature leaves. The ones growing here had barely turned yellow, which Wonwoo explained, meant the effectiveness of the sap wouldn’t be as potent. For a second, Junhui had wondered if Wonwoo ‘conveniently’ only found young plants in order to persuade his patient to let him use his powers, but a quick sweep of the area showed no golden leaves. As such, Junhui made do. Wonwoo hadn’t looked ecstatic, but luckily, he refrained from commenting.

Since Junhui was momentarily grounded, Chan decided to try his hand at cooking them a light soup from the roots and herbs he’d garnered earlier. Being grounded sucked, Junhui had glumly realized, watching the others work (“You could have helped, too, if your leg wasn’t injured. Oh, I wonder if there’s a faster way to heal.” Junhui pointedly ignored Wonwoo’s sarcasm and crossed his arms over his chest, nose upturned).

Now the tasty flavor of the broth drifted in the air, and Junhui couldn’t help sniffing appreciatively. He’ll have to ask about these vegetables later. Chan stirred the small pot hanging over the fire, waiting for Wonwoo to return from the river nearby with clean utensils and bowls. Once the soup had been ladled out, Chan answered his earlier inquiry.

“She really wasn’t that smart,” he mumbled in between spoonfuls.

“Does that mean I’m just dumb?” Junhui joked lightly.

“Wha—No! Jun, that’s not—”

Laughing a little, Junhui nudged his side, careful not to spill the content of their bowls. Chan chuckled and sighed at the older’s antics.

Wonwoo just shook his head at them, smiling faintly. “Chan saw her holding the glass ball as you left,” he clarified.

Eyes popping wide and mouth hanging open, Junhui stared at him. “Then you knew about me—You knew what I was decei…” He couldn’t finish his question, the shame resurfacing to choke him. Did Wonwoo only pretend to be affected? Did he let his powers get stolen for the benefit of some grand scheme?

Wonwoo looked up from the bowl, purple eyes boring into his. “No, not at the time,” he replied.

A shiver wracked through his body, and Junhui couldn’t help dropping his gaze. He recalled the scene at the cliff again, of the disbelief and hurt flashing across Wonwoo’s expression. _‘I underestimated his affection for you.’_ Everything had been genuine. Then Wonwoo really did lose his grip on his own powers due to Junhui.

At the prospect—and reality—of how much he must mean to Wonwoo hit him, Junhui couldn’t help placing a hand over his tummy. The spoonfuls of soup he’d been eating seemed to have transformed into butterflies, and his cheeks felt warm. 

“So um,” he mumbled, poking a piece of wild carrot floating in the broth. “What happened? If you knew she had stolen your powers, why didn’t you stop her? O-or call her out? Or… something.”

“That’d been suicidal,” Chan answered. “You don’t confront a witch unarmed.”

“R-right,” Junhui stammered, remembering Angella Fyre’s warning. He shook his head mentally. “Then what was your big plan?”

“Trusting you.”

He looked up at Wonwoo’s response, surprise written all over his face. “What?”

“Even though I didn’t have my powers anymore, the rings still worked,” he explained. “I knew you were relatively okay—your life force hadn’t dwindled. Knowing you, you’d have persevered until the end. You wouldn’t have let her get away with it.”

A rush swept over him. To hear such strong conviction coming from him, especially after the fiasco of the mind-warp, Junhui couldn’t believe his ears. Still—“That’s so risky!” he gasped, biting onto his knuckle. “What if—What if I had failed? What if everything had gone wrong?” A million scenarios flashed through his mind, and he rubbed his face with his free hand.

“But you didn’t!” Chan laughed, setting his empty bowl on the grass to wind an arm around Junhui’s shoulders. “You fought and defeated a witch all on your own, and I’m really disappointed I wasn’t there to see it. And lend a hand.”

Junhui still couldn’t wrap his mind around the explicit trust these boys had in him. “You two are crazy,” he mumbled. He scooped soup into his mouth, eating in the hopes of coming to grasp with reality. “I can’t even trust myself to flip pancakes flawlessly, and there you are, putting all of your eggs in my basket. Crazies!”

Next to him, Chan laughed merrily. Admittedly, the sound did make Junhui feel much better. He gave the older a little pat, then scooted forward to poke at the fire. “What happened to your positivity, huh?”

“Positivity and recklessness are not the same thing.” Junhui tipped the bowl and drank all the broth.

Chan laughed at him again. In the next moment, though, he plopped a handful of lumps on a tarp.

Junhui stacked their bowls and spoons together, watching as Chan blew on the hot lumps, hissing when the heat licked his fingers. Did he grill potatoes? The question was answered when Chan managed to unroll the wrapper.

“Ah!” Junhui exclaimed in excitement. “Sweet potatoes!” He had no idea where Chan could have found them, but he wasn’t going to complain. “I love sweet potatoes! Sweet potatoes are delicious. Delicious delicious delicious~”

Again, Chan didn’t hold back his laughter. “You sound like my cousin when he was pregnant.”

Junhui nearly dropped the spud on the ground. Thanks to a few acrobatic moves, he successfully salvaged his snack, though. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help glancing up at Wonwoo, the latter stifling his laughter. Pretending not to see or hear anything, Junhui focused on the spud and peeled back the skin to munch on it. Pregnant or not, he loved sweet potatoes and nothing will stop him from eating them.

“Anyway,” he tried to steer the conversation back on topic. “I broke the glass ball during the explosion, so I’m guessing that’s how you got your powers back.”

“Mm.” Wonwoo leaned back on his palms. “We thought you had simply gotten hold of the ball and shattered it. Imagine our surprise when we saw all the smoke.”

“Trust me, that wasn’t planned _at all_.”

Chan turned pensive. “Now that I think about it, do you think Professor Larkin sent us to her with the intent of… neutralizing her? I mean, she was evil, first of all. And secondly, it was his riddle that gave Jun the idea to spill water on her.”

“In hindsight, I suppose it’s not too far-fetched,” Wonwoo replied slowly.

“Wow. Guess we really should be more on the defensive from now on,” Junhui suggested, and the others agreed.

Done with their meals, they began to clean up. Junhui still couldn’t do much, but with Wonwoo’s magic helping, they got done within a couple minutes.

“So were you able to decipher anything from the clues?” Wonwoo asked his cousin.

“Yes!” Chan reached behind him for a flat reddish rock. It must have come from the cliffside.

“Wait, how did you get it if you didn’t have your powers?” Junhui wondered.

“We hiked?” Wonwoo answered, brow arched. “I can do things without using magic, you know.” 

“Sorry, go on.” Junhui waved his hands around.

“Okay. So there’s a riddle on the back of the rock.” Chan began to read, squinting a little at the small and faded words: “‘What can be... gentle enough to soothe the skin, butlight enough to caress the sky, yet hard enough to crack rocks?’”

“Well, that’s easy,” Wonwoo said.

“Water?” Junhui tried.

“Right!” Chan nodded. “I thought so too, so I dunked it in the river. The riddle remained unchanged, but on the front, a few characters appeared. No matter how many times I pour water over it, though, no other words appear. As it is, it’s just a bunch of random words.”

“Let me see.” Wonwoo reached for it, and Chan handed it over. “What if…” He tapped the edge on his knee. “What if the riddle serves to tell us what to do?”

“Like, we need to put it under all stages of water? Gas, liquid, and solid?” Junhui asked.

“Yeah.”

“In order words, apply steam and ice on it?” Chan wanted to make sure.

“That would be my guess. Let’s give it a try and see.” Dusting his pants, Wonwoostood up to grab the half-filled jug.

“I’m gonna get more water,” Chan announced, heading for the river.

Back at camp, Wonwoo handed the jug to Junhui. “Pour some out,” he said as he cupped his palms.

“Okay.” Junhui did as he was told, but asked, “What are you trying to do?”

Focusing on his task, Wonwoo didn’t look up. “Making ice. We don’t have the luxury of a freezer here.”

Normally, Junhui would laugh at the joke, but right now, he watched him warily. “Are you sure you should be using your powers? I mean, you just recovered, and you already used them a few minutes earlier—”

Wonwoo flashed him a soft smile. “I’m fine, princess.”

Before he could add more, the water in the palms of Wonwoo’s hands began to turn a little opaque on the surface. Junhui leaned in with interest, watching as tiny ice crystals formed. The liquid quickly condensed into a chunk of ice.

“There you go.” He set the ice on the tree trunk they had used as a table, next to the riddle rock.

Junhui poked at it in amazement. _Real ice!_

Chan returned, then, with a bucket of water. He poured half into their kettle to boil. “So how are we going to do this?” he asked, drying his hands on his shirt.

“Let’s start with the ice.” Wonwoo gestured for Junhui to grab a pencil and paper from their bags, and the latter hurriedly dug around for them. Once he signaled that he was ready, Wonwoo placed the ice on top of the rock, and the three of them waited.

The words that gradually appeared were from different lines, five to be exact. Making it enormously difficult to decipher what the whole message read. The hidden message looked like a whole paragraph.

In order to keep the confusion to a minimum, Junhui traced five lines on the paper, then wrote down the words with similar spaces between them as they appeared on the rock. At least there was punctuation; that helped a little. What he wouldn’t do for a phone or camera right now, though. As he worked, the cousins tried to read out loud and make sense of the words.

“‘future.’, ‘four puzzles together’, ‘In time, their union’, ‘Follow the smiling child’, ‘secrets within.’” Wonwoo took the ice away and the writing slowly faded out. “Now let’s pour water on it and see what it says.”

Bringing the bucket closer, Chan dunked the rock into the water and flicked the excess drops before setting it back on the trunk for Junhui jot the words down.

“‘Learn from the past’, ‘make one.’, ‘shall tell’, ‘Discover the’.”

“A whole lot of gibberish,” Chan mumbled. “I hope the final product actually makes sense, or we’ll never figure it out. I mean, what if it says something like: ‘find the pink elephant in the cupboard and put it inside a shoe. Fling the shoe into a lake filled with coconuts, then go eat a cheery pie.’” He sighed and shook his head.

“Think positive, Channie!” Junhui cheered, loose fits waving in the air as he grinned. “Just one more and we’ll get our answer.”

Then as if right on cue, the water boiled over and splash onto the logs lightly. Chan walked over and held the rock above the pot, letting the steam sink into the cracks and waited for the words appear. Once they did, he quickly ran back, and Junhui worked fast.

“‘to build’, ‘The last’, ‘a tale.’, ‘to his book.’”

Even though Junhui had been careful, it still required some thinking and tweaking here and there to make everything fit. The finished product was a mess of scribbles, but he read it out loud anyway. “‘Learn from the past to build the future. The last four puzzles together make one. In time, their union shall tell a tale. Follow the smiling child to his book. Discover the secrets within.’” Junhui looked at them. “Any ideas?”

“One thing at a time,” Chan said in a serious voice, completely ignoring the fact that he had almost given up on the message mere seconds earlier. Wonwoo glanced at Junhui briefly, but said nothing. Maybe Chan had an epiphany. “The last four puzzles must mean the latest riddles and clues we have gotten for far.”

“So... Fire,” Wonwoo started counting them off, “that rock, water, and...” His eyebrows furrowed. “What’s the fourth?”

“The bottle I found inside the apple pie book.” Junhui spotted the book nearby and brought it onto their table. “There’s some kind of symbol or writing on it,” he said. “And I know I’ve seen it somewhere before. “He dug through their bags for the riddle book to confirm his suspicions.

“Here.” Wonwoo tossed it to his lap. “You’re supposed to keep it and the spoon safe, right?” he teased.

To hide his smile, Junhui nodded and flipped through the pages until he came across what he was looking for. The symbol was drawn clearly here. It was some sort of human face, but with round chipmunk cheeks blowing out air. “Ah-ha! I knew it!”

Wonwoo leaned over to steal a quick glimpse.

“What is it?” Chan asked, scooting closer.

Letting out a dry chuckle, Wonwoo said, “What do you know? Another riddle.”

Now that Junhui paid attention, he finally noticed the lines underneath the symbol.

Wonwoo read it out loud, “‘It can’t hear you, but it can touch you. You can feel it, but you can’t see it. It can’t see you, but it can kill you. You can’t kill it, but you can hear it.’ Rather morbid.”

“Yeah, pretty creepy,” Junhui agreed. “But at least we know that whatever it is, it’s in the bottle.”

“Not unless what was in there was taken out,” Wonwoo noted.“You did find it in Angella Fyre’s library.”

Junhui pouted.

Putting a hand out, Chan asked to see the bottle. Junhui handed to him together with the book. “I think I know what this holds,” he said, examining it closely. “This drawing is of the East Wind.” He looked up, grinning. “This bottle holds a puff of wind.”

“Are you sure? What about the riddle?” Junhui asked.

“Well,” he started. “The wind can’t hear you, but it can touch you. And you can’t see it. And without eyes, it can’t see you, but that doesn’t help you in a windstorm. Wind it is!” he proclaimed proudly.

“Cool. So now we have the ‘last four puzzles,’” Wonwoo started the list again. “And they are supposed to come into one.” He thought for a second. “The last lines are still confusing, but we might actually have to be at the new location before it makes sense. Nevertheless, I think I know what connects the 4 riddles.”

“What?”

“They’re the four elements,” he said. “And there’s a monument in Everett where all of them fit together.”

Chan, already one step ahead of them, started to pack. “I guess it’s time to visit ol’ Everett. Again.” He sighed.

“How are we getting there?” Junhui asked. “I mean, where are we even now?”

“We’re still in Serenity Woods,” Wonwoo answered, picking up the piece of rock and stuffing it in one of their bags. “And don’t worry about it.” He grinned. “We’re not walking.”

Junhui was relieved to say the least. He doubted he could move very fast or far with this injury right now. It no longer hurt or stung, but extended walking would not be ideal. “Oh, good. But that still leaves my question unanswered.”

“We’re flying.” He laughed at Junhui’s bewildered expression.

Furrowing his brows, Junhui asked, “Like Peter Pan?”

Wonwoo chuckled, then slung the backpack over his shoulder. “Not quite.”

As it turned out, there was a small village located in the hills behind their camp. The trip there took longer than it should due to his leg. What a drag, literally. Junhui felt bad for slowing them down, but every time he tried to quicken his pace, the cousins would call him out on it. Chan claimed that he was tired, too, and Junhui’s injury gave him an excuse to take it easy. Junhui had no way to verify the truth, so he resorted to take it at face value. Since they weren’t actively chased by villains, he supposed that their current pace was okay. It was during the short trip when he poked at the possibilities of “flying” to Everett.

“Are we taking a plane?”

“A what?” Chan gave him one of those looks again.

Junhui gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s um. It’s a machine that flies and transports people and merchandise.”

A worrisome expression colored Chan’s face. “That sounds really unsafe. I’m glad they don’t exist here.”

Wonwoo laughed. “A plane isn’t the only way to fly.”

“Please don’t tell me we’re going to ride on a giant bird or something, like in the fairytales.”

Both cousins laughed at that. “Don’t worry about it. We’re almost to our destination,” Wonwoo said.

So Junhui had to leave it at that as they slowly trekked over the hills and into the village. This one was very quaint and much smaller than Ashberry. The style of the houses was different as well. The buildings only went up to two stories, as compared to the four or five floors that he’d seen in Ashberry. The stones used for the roads were uneven, some were even slightly upturned by large tree roots, which made walking without tripping slightly challenging. Apart from that small setback, the place was delightful. Everything seemed small and delicate, charming. The trees were in bloom, giving the village so much vitality and colors.

For a second, it almost seemed like Warwick had never ventured here.

Almost.

As soon as Junhui saw her walk into the plaza, he halted, heart lurching out of his chest. The blood drained from his face even before Wonwoo and Chan bristled, stances turning hostile instantly. They pulled him behind the nearest building, hiding in the shadows of the alley.

Some kind of rally or assembly was taking place in the village, it seemed like. It was already late afternoon, but the masses still squeezed through the streets and headed for the plaza, where Aldith had just passed through.

Fear had Junhui pinned to the wall, unable to move. While Angella Fyre had intimidated him, he’d been able to confront her in the end. But something about Aldith turned his blood into ice. Perhaps because their first run-in had taken place in his own home, instead of this enchanted land. She was more _real_. His fear of her could also be attributed to her raid at Jihoon and Hansol’s house. Junhui could still remember the sensation of helplessness, of being utterly alone as he stumbled out into the dark yard, the realization that she could catch him any second and use him to get to Wonwoo. It was that rush of adrenaline, the one that made his entire body shake, head swimming for survival.

“Think she saw us?” Chan asked.

The question snapped Junhui out of his stupor, and he refocused, hand fisting into the fabric of Wonwoo’s shirt.

The latter glimpsed briefly at him, but shook his head at Chan. “Doubt it. Too many people around.” He surveyed the growing crowd. “Maybe this will work to our advantage.”

“We might get swept up in the crowd, though.” Chan seemed worried, his earlier enthusiasm drenched.

“Not if we run,” Wonwoo said, taking another peek.

Neither one of them asked for Junhui’s input, and he was glad for the break. His heart was pounding in his chest, riding up his tight throat.

Faintly, an announcement was made, but because of the poor echo, nothing tangible could be made out. Despite the indistinct words, there was no doubt who the speaker was. Her voice was just as ascorbic as he remembered. What was this event? A mass brainwashing session? Or a public execution? The possibilities made him nauseous.

While his mind spun, Wonwoo had starting speaking again. “... take it up, but don’t cut the cords just yet.”

“Got it,” Chan agreed, an edge in his voice. Because Junhui had zoned out moments earlier, he almost pulled the boy back when he ran out into the streets, moving swiftly between the gathered people.

“Okay.” Wonwoo moved closer to the wall, sneaking another peek. Deeming it safe, he turned to Junhui. “We need to take care of that leg of yours.” Firmly tugging on his arm, he spun him around until Junhui’s back was to chest, arms coming around his torso. Junhui hadn’t even recovered from the jolt of shock that Wonwoo gripped the waistband of his pants and ripped it down the seam running along his outer thigh.

“What the heck are you doing?!” Junhui jerked against his hold, nearly shrieking in shock.

Grabbing his wrist, Wonwoo flipped him around and crowded him against the wall. “Fuck, Junhui!” he hissed. The color of his eyes stunned Junhui into silence. “Now’s not the time for modesty. To get out of here, you need to _run_ , and I will be damned if I let her touch you!” On any given day, the ferocity and seriousness of his voice would have been enough to convince Junhui to let him do practically anything. But his eyes weren’t silver. They were a color Junhui had never seen before. Deep, deep teal.

Raw fear.

Mindlessly, Junhui nodded. He turned pliant in his hands as Wonwoo shifted him, keeping him close to his body while he craned his head to watch the crowd—to watch for Aldith. His hand slid down Junhui’s waist and found the bandaged leaves against his hip. He stripped everything off, the sting making Junhui wince.

Then before long, his hand replaced the bandages, lightly scratching against the wound. His touch was gentle despite the dangerous situation, mindful not to hurt him. His powers kicked in quickly, the pain receding as the healing took place. Then it was over.

“Okay,” Wonwoo nodded, removing his hand. His voice hadn’t returned to its usual leveled quality yet. There was still an edge to it. “Chan should be there by now. See that floating colorful thing in the distance, behind all the houses?” he asked.

Junhui nodded.

“Run to it as fast as you can, but watch your surrounding. If she’s here, then so are the guards. Whatever she has planned for today is huge.”

“What about you?” Junhui turned to look at him.

Something flickered over his expression, but it disappeared just as quickly. “I’ll be right behind you. Keep the target in mind and run.” Without further ado, he pushed him forward, “Go!”

And Junhui did.

Incredibly, his legs functioned. He sprinted through the crowd, pushing people out of his way. His heart pounded in his chest, echoing in his ears. He had never run so fast in his entire life. Everything flashed by his eyes in a blur. With only Wonwoo’s instructions in mind, he kept the bobbing object in the distance in sight and ducked into alleys as often as he could.

Despite being smaller than Ashberry, it was still a whole village that he had to cross on foot. After a handful of minutes, his lungs began to burn and his mouth ran dry. He thought of Wonwoo and pushed himself forward, dodging behind a tree. Not a second too soon. On his periphery, he noticed a troop of guards corralling the crowd, getting them to move toward the plaza. He swallowed to quench his dry mouth, resuming his run.

One of the guards shouted at someone. The sound startled him, and he tripped on a raised cobblestone. Scrambling to get up, he winced at the pain of the impact and sting on his hands and elbows.

“Apprehend him!”

Junhui whipped his head around to see a group of ten soldiers or so rushing toward him, a cold and satisfying look on their faces.

“Shoot!”

Jumping back to his feet, he darted to the right, up a small slope that wrapped around the lot of houses. His chest was burning, but somehow his legs kept going. He made it to the other end of the slope, momentum strong enough that he practically slid down the smooth road.

It wasn’t until he was almost halfway down that he realized that it led straight for the plaza, where Aldith stood just a few yards away. He crashed to the ground, stopping himself from going any closer to her.

The commotion from the soldiers hot on his heels called for her attention, and she turned. The flicker of recognition lit up her eyes, and she darted for him. Her red hair like giant flames behind her, she seemed to fly at him. Junhui yelped as he scrambled to find an alternative route. The soldiers rushed at him from behind, and Aldith came at him from the front. He had to risk it.

Turning swiftly, he jumped into the bushes lining the path in between houses. It was a tight fit, and his heart lurched out of his chest as he squeezed through the narrow space. His pace slowed down tremendously as such, and he feared that Aldith would pluck him out at any second. But by some miracle, all he could hear were shocked outbursts and angry shouting that he’d escaped. It seemed that some tried to follow him, but they were too burly and couldn’t fit through the gap. He had no idea why Aldith didn’t try, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when he finally made it out of the tiny space and spotted the bobbing colorful thing again.

_Come on, Jun, almost there_ , he chanted, repressing the cries threatening to spill from his lips. He was starting to lose the feeling in his legs, his ears buzzed, and his chest had become an inferno. Still, he couldn’t stop. The consequences would be much, _much_ worse.

At last, the bobbing object was within reach, and it was… a hot air balloon.

If Junhui had any energy left, he would have laughed.

He ran up the grass hill, crawling the last few yards. Standing on the hill to catch his breath for a couple seconds, he saw Chan in the basket of the balloon, ready to sever the ropes just as his cousin had instructed. But Wonwoo was nowhere in sight. Junhui took off running again. He crashed into the basket floor, rolling inside.

“Are you all right?” Chan helped him sit up.

Breathing hard, Junhui only managed to nod. “Where’s... Wonwoo?” he panted, opening his eyes. Only to find Chan’s stare back at him in panic.

“He was with you—” A clamoring noise made the younger look back toward the hill where Junhui had come from. “Oh, man. Where the hell is he?” he groaned.

Through the open door of the basket, Junhui saw soldiers coming at them, climbing over the mound at a frightening speed. Aldith strolled up behind them, standing on top of the hill like some fire warrior, flaming hair whipping in the wind. She cast a smug and content look toward them. She had them. She knew that neither Chan nor Junhui would leave without Wonwoo. For all they knew, she had already captured Wonwoo, and now she simply needed to collect them.

“Chan,” Junhui called, but any other word died on his lips. They were done for.

Chan gripped the ropes tighter, the pocket knife firm in his other hand. Even if it was futile, he wasn’t going to get captured without a fight. Junhui quickly looked around, searching for any kind of weapon he could use, too.

“Cut the ropes!”

The boys whipped toward the source of the shout.

From the other side of the field, coming from a totally different part of the village, Wonwoo sprinted toward them.

The guards halted, heads turning toward Aldith for her orders. Should they go for Wonwoo or were they supposed to keep on track and grab the kids in the balloon? Junhui’s eyes flickered between Wonwoo’s quickly approaching figure and Aldith’s calculating expression. She had to weigh the probabilities of her guards catching Wonwoo and surviving his magic. By the time she opened her mouth to order them to charge for him and Chan, the younger had already severed the ropes.

The balloon lifted off the ground. Chan moved into position and turned on the valves of the gas tanks. The flame surged to life, and they rose up even faster.

“Oof!” Wonwoo jumped and hit his stomach on the edge of the basket, legs dangling. Junhui shot up to pull him over. “Give us more altitude,” Wonwoo said, grunting as he finally landed inside the basket.

With a _whoosh!_ they took off.

On the ground, it sounded like Aldith threw some sort of tantrum, and the guards cowered from her yelling, but it was too late for regrets. The balloon was already airborne, well beyond their reach.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo huffed, scrambling to stand up. Laughing in relief, he looked down at the scene. “Well, that was was exhilarating,” he kid, resting his elbows on the edge of the basket.

Chan snorted. “Yeah, sure. My heart almost gave out due to the excitement.” The sarcasm was meant to be playful, and they both chuckled, Wonwoo mussing Chan’s hair. Casting a look to the side at Junhui slinking to the floor, Chan remarked worriedly, “It might have killed Jun, though.”

As if seeing him for the first time, Wonwoo knelt down to examine him. “Junnie? Are you all right?” His eyes were back to their natural amethyst color, more beautiful than any field of flowers.

“I’m fine, just need to catch my breath.” So he claimed, but right now he felt like his head was about to burst in two, and it took all he had not to let the nausea show. He swallowed the excessive saliva pooling in his mouth, pushing down on the urge to dry heave. He kept his eyes closed as he leaned back to rest his head on the side of the basket. He knew what this was—just over-exhaustion. It happened to him before, during dance rehearsals, so he was no stranger to it. 

“You’re extremely pale,” Wonwoo remarked quietly, worry barely concealed. “Here.” He placed into Junhui’s hand a canteen of water.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, tipping the container to drink. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute. It’ll pass.”

A gentle hand carded through his hair. “I’m sorry. I tend to forget that your constitution is slightly different from ours.”

“What do you mean? Because you have magic?” Junhui asked, glad for the distraction. “Chan doesn’t have any, either.”

“But he was still born from the Royal bloodline,” Wonwoo explained. “He can’t wield magic, but he’s physically more resilient than a regular citizen.”

That made sense. A little. Junhui had learned not to question the technicalities too much when it came to magic.

“I collected a few berries earlier in the day,” Chan offered.

“If it doesn’t get better in a couple minutes, I’ll take you up on the offer,” Junhui promised with a faint smile, which appeased Chan. His cousin still hovered, though. Cracking his eyes a tiny bit, he saw Wonwoo’s concerned frown. Not liking that look, he decided to change the subject. “Isn’t this balloon too conspicuous?”

His question managed to get Wonwoo to smile a little. “Ordinarily, yes. But it’s fast. Moreover, I made sure we wouldn’t be spotted and followed.”

Opening his eyes fully, he asked, “How?”

Wonwoo grinned brightly at him. Under normal circumstances, Junhui would have melted, but his state of being wasn’t its healthiest, so he stared back anxiously at him.

“What did you do?” he asked slowly.

Even Chan was listening in, curious.

Fumbling with something in his pocket, Wonwoo pulled out a tiny bottle with a cork. A blue liquid sloshed inside. “Another potion?”

Flashing him another of those smiles, he replied, “This, princess, is the silver lining during a cloudy day.” Junhui squinted at him. “A few drops, and anyone looking up will see nothing but clouds, while we enjoy the magnificent view.” He handed the bottle over his shoulder to Chan. The latter examined it with great interest before putting it to work. “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Junhui gave him a small smile just to prove it.

Wonwoo smiled back, softer and gentler than before. He put a hand over Junhui’s forehead. The latter looked up, about to tell him that he didn’t have a fever, when he felt a familiar cooling sensation settle over his skin, soothing and calming.

“You don’t need to heal me.” Junhui tugged on his sleeve. “I’m not hurt.”

“Stay still. I want to try something.”

After a few seconds, Junhui understood. The hollow feeling in his stomach and the dryness in his mouth lessened, then disappeared completely. His head didn’t feel as light, the wooziness was gone, and he didn’t have to listen to his breath echoing in his ears anymore.

Wonwoo saw it right away. “Got your colors back,” he remarked, smiling.

“Thank you.” Junhui smiled back.

“So. Wanna check out the view? It’s really nice.” Although his cajoling—and smile—was tempting, Junhui still didn’t trust his jell-o legs.

“I… don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Come on. I’ve got you.” Lightly, he pulled on Junhui’s hands. “You only get this opportunity once in a lifetime.”

“There are a lot of things that are considered once in a lifetime opportunities, but that doesn’t mean I have to go through all of them,” Junhui argued weakly.

“Are you still angry with me? About earlier.” Wonwoo suddenly looked serious, his eyes boring into the other’s shocked ones.

With everything that happened, Junhui hadn’t even thought about that minor altercation between them. Sure, it had been shocking and embarrassing at the time, but he understood why Wonwoo did it. They were in a bind. There was no other way. Had Wonwoo not done something so drastic, Junhui wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

“Of course not,” Junhui replied. “I was startled, but it’s nothing to get angry over.” 

Wonwoo frowned regardless. “I was still out of line.” Putting his hand out, he tilted his head to the side. “So please accept my deepest apologies.”

“Why are you so formal all of a sudden?” he laughed a little at the confusion. “But okay.” Junhui held out his own hand. No sooner had their fingers touched that Wonwoo got on his feet, pulling Junhui up with him.

“Wonwoo!” Junhui cried out, startled as Wonwoo led him toward the edge of the basket. He clung to him like a koala, face pressed into the crook of his shoulder, arms looped around his waist. “My legs are going to give out, and I’m going to tumble overboard, and then you’ll see!” he hissed. On the side, he heard Chan stifle a laugh.

“Open your eyes, Junnie.” Wonwoo’s deep voice washed over him, and he tamped down on the small shudder.

“No!” He pressed his lips together and burrowed deeper.

“Don’t you trust me to catch you even if you fell?”

“Oh, you are such a cheater!” Junhui muttered, heart pounding so hard, he was really scared that Wonwoo would be able to feel it considering their position.

Wonwoo laughed, and the sound reverberated through his chest, prompting Junhui to smile even when he was trying so hard to be a rock. “It’s not. It’s the truth. Come on, princess. Turn around and open your eyes.”

It took another pause, but eventually Junhui listened, letting out a tiny, “Okay.” Gathering his courage, he slowly dropped his arms in order to face in the opposite direction. He did notice, though, that while Wonwoo’s loosened around him to allow him to move, they never left. More butterflies fluttered in his tummy. Taking a breath, he opened his eyes.

At first, a streak of sunlight pierced his eyesight and nearly blinded him. He squeaked and dodged out of the way, prompting the cousins to laugh. He pouted at the sun, but gradually, his eyes adjusted to the brightness, and he sucked in a delighted gasp.

It truly was amazing, flying above the green planes of the country, seeing the thick and lush forests below, multicolor specks showing patches of wild flowers sprinkled over the grass like confetti, the blue ribbons forming rivers. The clear sky stretched overhead, thin and white clouds floating by like cotton candy.

“This is so beautiful,” he whispered, still in awe. “Serenity Woods is such a beautiful country.”

Wonwoo rested his chin on Junhui’s shoulder and sighed wistfully. “Yes.”

There was so much sadness in his voice it made Junhui’s heart clench. This was his home, and he was forced to watch others come and take it away from him, right under his eyes. How helpless must he feel, chasing riddles instead of fighting back head on. Even if he knew logically that it was the smartest strategy, he must still beat himself over it any chance he got.

Junhui removed one hand from holding the basket and found one of Wonwoo’s around his stomach. Wonwoo flipped his hand over, and Junhui pressed their palms together. He wanted Wonwoo to know that he would be there for him, no matter what awaited them next. If Wonwoo was ready to catch him when he fell, then Junhui was willing to be his strength and support.

“Thank you,” Junhui said, watching the horizon and the sun moving behind a wisp of cotton candy. “For showing me.”

This had the same meaning as Wonwoo showing him a side of himself. He loved his country so much, it was written plainly on his face as he gazed at the scenery.

Taking Junhui’s hand in his, he nodded, smile gentle. Silently, they watched Serenity Woods drift by below them.

They arrived before sunset, landing in a nondescript field much like the one they had departed from. Although the night proved to be a powerful ally, it also meant that the prospect of finding the monument was out. Their priority was finding lodging. If locating the monument was as simple as Wonwoo made it sound like (“It’ll be like finding the Eiffel Tower in Paris”), then they would hopefully be en route for the next clue by tomorrow night. However, the odds that they would easily find a clue didn’t look so good. Consequently, they needed to find an inn where people could be trusted not to divulge their presence to the gossip mill. Gossiping about others was part of human nature, though, so that would be a difficult criterion to be met.

On one hand, this was a much smaller town, far from any bustling cities and even farther than Everett’s capital, where Warwick resided. So maybe less guards patrolled the area. On the other hand, because the town was so small, the arrival of three strangers might be enough to rise the curiosity of onlookers. They’ll need to be extra careful not to reveal their identities, especially if those WANTED posters had already been distributed.

While Wonwoo used some other potion to make the hot air balloon disappear, Junhui put on one of the dresses he’d bought from Mingyu’s shop and took a sip of the hair potion. He picked a hair style at random, tucking the long strands around his face smoothing them down as he pulled the hooded cloaks over his head. Somewhere nearby, Chan also changed into his disguise and plopped a bucket hat as a final touch. Once Wonwoo also donned his new outfit and hat, they set off.

They entered the tranquil town and spotted an inn with its lights burning low through the windows. The front desk was empty when they pushed the door in, but a few patrons sat around the fire, talking lowly and playing cards. The old men glimpsed at the newcomers indifferently, attention quickly returning to their game. Junhui released a relieved sigh. A brief but thorough assessment around the place showed no WANTED posters nailed to the walls, at least in the lobby. _So far, so good_. The cousins kept themselves partially hidden in the shadows, face downturned, as though preoccupied with studying their map.

A small clutter from a blocked off room led Junhui to look toward the front desk again. Soon, a young man around his age emerged from behind the curtain, holding a clipboard and a pencil in his hand. Noticing new guests, he smiled politely.

“Good evening! My name is Seo Oliver. How may I help you, miss?”

Initially, Junhui worried about his alertness compared to the last inn keeper, but since the disguise seemed to work, he relaxed a tiny bit. He smiled in return, nodding in greeting.

“Hello. Three rooms, please.” He kept his answers short and to the point. He had confidence in his girl voice, but the less details he left behind, the better.

Although Seo Oliver did throw a cursory glance toward Wonwoo and Chan, he didn’t comment. He kept his pleasant business expression as he spoke to Junhui. “Of course, please sign in, and I’ll take you to your rooms.” He pushed forward a large guestbook and turned to fetch the room keys.

Junhui signed them in as Moon Kat, Jung Wes, and Yi Mike for lack of better fake names. Once he finished, the three followed after the inn keeper up the stairs.

“So where do you folks come from?” Oliver asked, making easy conversation.

_Far away,_ Junhui wanted to say, the words on the tip of his tongue. But he didn’t want to be rude. “We have been traveling for a while now.”

“Ah, yes.” He chuckled, moving to the side once they’d arrived. “Here are your room keys.” Junhui put his hand out to receive them. “If there is anything I can do for you, please, don’t hesitate to ask.” Although he meant that for all three of them, he lingered over Junhui’s face a couple seconds longer, making the latter grow uncomfortable. He couldn’t have recognized him from the posters, right? His girl disguise was still good, right? Nervously, Junhui grabbed the ends of his hair, smoothing the strands out over his chest.

“Thank you, Mr. Seo,” Wonwoo said lowly.

“Please, call me Oliver.”

Wonwoo agreed, “Oliver.”

Their group turned to go into their respective rooms, only for Oliver to call halfway to the stairs, “Oh, before I forget. We offer breakfast between 6:00 and 10:30. Please come and join us in the dinning hall.”

“Thank you,” Junhui bowed a little, and the inn keeper left.

Wonwoo signaled for them to keep quiet and to get inside. Best pretend to be exhausted. They’ll discuss the next steps in the morning. The other two nodded in silent agreement.

Inside the room, Junhui all but collapsed into the bed, laying on his stomach for a minute, before flipping onto his back. He moaned in content at finally lying on something soft and comfortable. He sunk into the mattress, feeling it curve along his spine, removing the strain from his tired joints and muscles. The bed was so heavenly, he didn’t even mind the aches and soreness from the day’s chase.

Fatigue in conjunction to the wonders of the bed lulled him to sleep without him even realizing it. Not until he woke up from the sound of horse hooves hitting the cobblestoned roads. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Going by the time on the little clock on the dresser, he hadn’t slept for more than a couple hours. It had been a while since he heard cars passing by his window, and the novelty of horses hadn’t worn off yet. So giving in to his curiosity, Junhui got off the bed and went to sit on the window sill to peer down into the street, hoping for a glimpse.

To his surprise, he didn’t have to look far. Right in front of the inn, a driver had parked a coach with four horses. He couldn’t see the details of the person due to the insufficient lighting and the tree branches, though. The driver climbed down from his post and went to open the door of the coach. There was some kind of insignia on the door—a fancy young master? he snickered to himself.

The driver bowed, and another man stepped out. Not _young_ master. From his build, it had to be a full grown man. Junhui wondered why he didn’t go inside. His question was answered not long after, when someone from the inn walked out to meet the man. Seo Oliver?

Squinting and moving around to avoid the branches, Junhui finally realized who the man in the coach was: the same one accompanying Aldith and Warwick that day to _Healing Bites_. He gasped and clasped a hand over his mouth.

What was that man doing here?

Junhui’s heartbeat got louder, alarm bells ringing like crazy in his head. His hands turned clammy as they pressed against the cool glass. Luckily for him, since it was darker in his room than on the streets, they wouldn’t be able to see him even if they were to look up. So he controlled his worries and kept a close watch.

Both men exchanged a few words, Oliver drawing things in midair with his arms. The other simply listened, nodding from time to time. Then it was his turn to tell Oliver something, putting the latter in a foul mood. Junhui’s foot already on the floor, he was ready to run over to Wonwoo and Chan, but then the man handed Oliver some kind of box. Junhui froze, looking on. But they discussed nothing further. The man climbed back into the vehicle, and the coach pulled away. Oliver stood in place for a second, following after the coach with his eyes, then he turned on his heels and returned inside.

Sitting with his back to the window, Junhui started to fret. What did that encounter mean? Did the man come to warn Oliver about their little group? Or did he come to collect information from Oliver? What if Oliver was on his way to catch them right this second? _I gotta warn Wonwoo!_

Scrambling down and nearly tripping over the skirts of his dress, Junhui ran for the door.

Less than five inches from his goal, the doorknob slowly turned. Skidding to a stop, he watched with wide eyes as it turned one way, then the other. The person on the other side jerked lightly on it, rattling the door frame. Junhui swallowed, backing away. His eyes glued to that moving knob, one foot behind the other, he walked backward.

“Princess, are you all right?”

For a split second, he feared his mind was playing tricks on him, making the voice sound like Wonwoo’s.

“Jun?” The knob rattled some more, more urgently this time. “I swear if you don’t open the door, I’m breaking in.”

Wonwoo’s tense tone snapped him out of the fright, and he ran to fling the door open.

“Hey,” he breathed out as sure enough, Wonwoo stood on the other side, brows furrowed and eyes silver. They reflected the dim glow of the hallway candles, making him seem even more uneasy. “Is everything all right?”

Wonwoo looked him up and down, studying him in concern. “I was just about to ask you the same question. I heard running and some muffled noises. I just wanted to make sure nothing happened.” Expression darkening, he added in a low voice, “As unpleasant as it is to consider, you’re currently a girl staying by herself.”

And then it dawned on him why Wonwoo was so worried. He quickly reassured him, “I’m fine! No one tried to break into my room or anything.” Grabbing his wrist, he looked down the hallway, ensuring no intruder was coming. He tugged Wonwoo inside and closed the door. “I’m okay, but we need to evacuate tonight.”

“What?”

“I just saw Oliver talk to the guy who came to the restaurant with Warwick and Aldith.”

“Damhan? Where?” His eyes swirled to an even darker shade.

Junhui nodded toward the window. “Out there. Didn’t you hear the horses?”

“They’re not an unusual occurrence in this realm,” he reminded him gently. “But what happened exactly?”

The pair took a seat on the bed, and Junhui explained what he witnessed as best he could.

After he was done, Wonwoo nodded, considering the options. “I... I don’t think Damhan knows we’re here.” Seeing Junhui’s skeptical eyes, he explained further. “Think about it. Would Aldith or Warwick really have let him come here—where we are, completely unaware—and just leave? They would have brought a whole army this time to make sure they’d catch us before we even knew we were in danger. No, I think this was something else.”

“Then what could he here for? And what the heck can that box be? A spell? A curse? _Pandora’s box???_ ”

“Hey.” Wonwoo put both hands on Junhui’s shoulders and pressed down, digging his thumbs into the muscles, forcing him to calm down. “Take a deep breath, princess.”

Junhui did, nodding.

“Okay, listen to me. As of right now, we have been extremely lucky. I’m not saying that we’ll continue to get this lucky as we go on, but for right now, we are safe. So what we need to do is take advantage of that. Rest, get enough energy to move on.”

“Okay.” Nodding, Junhui took in one more deep breath. “What are we doing tomorrow?” he asked.

“Didn’t you hear the inn keeper?” Junhui looked up upon hearing the lighthearted tone. “We’re getting free breakfast! When was the last time you had a good breakfast?” Although his voice was playful and his smile teasing, his eyes weren’t anywhere near purple, much less the green it should be when he spoke this way. He was trying really hard to take Junhui’s mind off the recent turn of events.

Junhui gave him a look. “You can’t lie, Wonwoo. Your eyes always give you away.”

Pretending to think about it, he put his finger on his chin. “Hmm... Maybe I should invest into some contact lenses, what do you think?” He flashed him another one of those bright smiles, and Junhui laughed softly, mock punching him in the arm.

“Is all this teasing and laughing another way for you to cope with the situation?” Surely, Junhui didn’t forget how Wonwoo used to tease him while he stayed at _Healing Bites_.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied innocently, looking away.

“Liar.” And honestly, that brief distraction did help calm Junhui down, at least for a while. “Aren’t you scared of what might happen tomorrow morning?” he asked seriously.

A few seconds passed before Wonwoo answered him. “Of course I am, Jun.” Unlike previously, his voice sounded soft and small. A combination so rare on his part, it took Junhui by surprise. It was like he was finally allowing Junhui to see the vulnerability, just a little crack in the door.

“You really don’t show it sometimes,” he said, really meaning it. At times, he had wondered if Jeon Wonwoo had been born with some glitch in his genetic makeup that made it possible for him to never show fear. Until this afternoon happened.

“It’s not something I’m allowed to show,” Wonwoo eventually admitted.

“What?”

Wonwoo sighed. “How would you have felt if in times of crisis, I shook like a leaf, unable to tell left from right? Fear is a great motivator, but only when you know how to control it. You feel scared when danger is near, and it prompts your survival instincts to get you away from the danger. But a good leader isn’t supposed to let fear rule their actions. Someone who claims he has no fear is a fool,” he amended. “Without fear and pain, you lose your ability to flee and escape. However, when other people are involved, things change. You look out for them, and you reign in your fear. Because when those people are looking up to you for help, you’re supposed to be strong. You need to be able to keep a cool head and guide them to safety. You can’t inspire courage and expect your troops to keep marching on, if you’re shaking and cowering in the corner, right?”

Junhui nodded, understanding. He could only imagine what it must be like to be scared and yet unable to show it. To keep it all within just to protect your people and to make them believe that everything will be okay. “But everyone has a breaking point,” he murmured.

Wonwoo hummed, fingers flicking the lace of the skirt. “I hadn’t lost control of it in a really long time,” he admitted. Then he cracked a crooked smile, eyes meeting his. “You seem to have a really good knack for that.”

Gasping dramatically, Junhui placed a hand over his chest. “You mean _I_ have the ability to rattle the all powerful Crown Prince? Oh, my!” He burst into giggles quickly after, but Wonwoo kept watching him, a quiet smile on his face.

“Yeah. That’s right.”

And then Junhui suddenly recalled their conversation on the cliff again, of how shaken he had been, how easily Angella Fyre was able to steal his powers. _‘I underestimated his affection for you.’_ Junhui’s cheeks heated up, and he dropped his gaze, fingers bunching the fabric of the poofy skirt. He hadn’t allowed himself to linger over it, masking the memories with all the crazy things that happened. To bring it back now, to hear Wonwoo confirm Junhui’s impact on his control… Junhui didn’t want to let himself hope. Not this time. He was too scared to open the door to that possibility.

Time to change the subject.

Daring a peek, the first thing he noticed was Wonwoo’s gaze on his face. He ignored how that caused his stomach to do summersaults.

“Your eyes have finally cleared,” he noted, glad to see that the silver had receded.

Wonwoo chuckled. “How can you possibly see what color they are in the dark?”

“Because, when they’re silver, they kind of shine.”

Surprising him, Wonwoo raised his hand and lightly covered Junhui’s eyes.

“Hey!”

“You spend too much time staring at my eyes.”

Junhui giggled, grabbing his wrist to move his hand. “Of course. How am I supposed to know how you truly feel or if you’re hiding something from me?”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Wonwoo countered, letting Junhui hold his hand and play with his fingers.

Junhui pouted, head tilted. “You don’t need to hide things from me,” he said gently, cradling his hand. “I can take it, you know? I mean, I know I’m not the most reliable person out there,” he admitted with a small laugh. “But you can count on me.”Using his free hand, Wonwoo tucked a loose strand of red hair behind his ear, causing him to flinch from the ticklish sensation. Wonwoo chuckled, lingering smile tender as he cupped his cheek. “I know, kitten. Thank you.”

Junhui grinned, warmth radiating all over his body. “Does that mean you’ll tell me everything?”

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo chuckled. “We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoaaaaa! a new eye color!!! in case anyone needs a refresher:
> 
> Purple: neutral/calm  
> Green: amused  
> Blue: excited/extremely happy  
> Gold: frustrated/dissatisfied/annoyed  
> Silver/Anthracite: worry, anger, distress  
> (the darker the color, the stronger the emotion)  
> Teal: fear
> 
> bye-bye hannie! i know all of you were hoping for more with him, but... hannie's busy 😅 we will see him (and his mates *wink wink nudge nudge* before the end of the fic, so yayayayay)
> 
> also, the scene of wonhui in the village. i KNOW it's all intense and dramatic, but my brain couldn't stop screaming "BUFFWOOOOO" i mean, HE RIPPED THE PANTS DOWN THE SMEAM LINE, bypassing he waistband! my oh my... lol
> 
> and! for those who don't know, [this](https://twitter.com/Swanny_Writer/status/1257392575390023680) is the reason behind the sweet potato comment lol. 
> 
> next chapter is gonna be pretty eventful, so i hope to get it done in a timely manner lol. 
> 
> as always, thank you very much for reading! if you have any questions, pls feel free to ask! :D
> 
> take care, you guys!  
> xoxoxo


	15. Poison Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes end up investigating shady Oliver.

As promised, breakfast was served at the inn the next morning. If the smell of bacon, eggs and freshly baked bread were any indication. Junhui’s stomach growled the moment he woke up and sniffed the deliciousness drifting through the gap of his door. With that yummy motivation in mind, he quickly got ready, washing away the last few days’ worth of trouble and filth from his body.

Refreshed, he inspected the room thoroughly, checking that nothing would look out of place or suspicious in case Oliver did sneak in to spy on them. He pocketed the riddle book and set off for the door. No one milled around in the hallway, but the din of a small commotion from the first floor echoed up the stairs. It sounded like the other tenants were grabbing food and having a great time with each other. With luck, their little group will be able to blend in and not attract attention.

Junhui turned to insert his room key into the lock, when he heard Wonwoo’s door click open and close. He turned to say hello, smile bright—only to halt in his tracts, eyes popping and jaw slack.

“What happened to your hair?” he whisper-shouted, hands waving toward Wonwoo’s black strands. Not only did the color change, so did the styling. His bangs were no longer pushed back, instead they fell softly over his forehead. Wonwoo’s entire aura seemed to have shifted from a devilish rogue to gentle scholar. The glasses really served to sell the new look. “I didn’t even know you needed prescription.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “These are just for show,” he said, finger tapping against the frame. “I do have really bad eyesight, but that’s where magic comes in, right?”

Grinning a little, he leaned over the adjacent door and knocked. Once. Three times. Twice. They heard Chan shuffling around inside, calling out a quick, “I’m almost done!”

“So then what’s the deal with your hair?” Junhui wondered, still so mesmerized by the change.

Wonwoo shrugged, pinching the black fringe and releasing it absentmindedly. “I just thought it’d deter suspicious minds. Now I can probably pass for a Crown Prince impersonator,” he laughed.

Junhui smiled, playing along. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Eh. As long as I don’t do anything to dirty High Highness’ name.”

They laughed quietly.

Still staring fixedly at him, Junhui couldn’t help reaching out to touch the new hair color. “This is going to take a lot of getting used to,” he remarked. “But hey, how come you didn’t think to do this from the start?” Stepping away, he continued, “Oh, does it have anything with your magical signature and whatnot?”

“Mm.” Wonwoo nodded. “I actually bought two bottles of that hair transformation potion in Ashberry, expecting Chan and I to use it, too, but then we got separated, and a lot of things happened in between, so.”

Junhui nodded in understanding. “Right. And since we’re going to be spending at least a full day here, it’s more prudent to use as many layers of disguise as we can.”

“Exactly.”

Chan’s door opened, and the younger stepped into the hall. Despite already being aware, it still took Junhui a second to rewire his brain. Instead of the usual adorable brunette, Chan showed up with sandy hair and a dangling earring.

“Wow!” Junhui exclaimed, blinking rapidly. “Channie looks so cool!”

The younger blushed slightly, laughing at the compliment. “Thanks, Jun.”

Looking at the “new” Royals, Junhui thought to mess around a little. “You guys are so stingy, though. How come I wasn’t invited to the makeover party? Am I not cool enough?” Faking an exaggerated ugly sob, he dabbed at his eye with the frills of his sleeve.

As he hoped, Chan burst into laughter at his over-the-top acting, falling against his side.

While Junhui continued his antics, Wonwoo cocked his head and assessed him. At last, he tugged on the ends of the red strands to draw attention to it. “The potion is wearing off,” he noted. “You forgot to take a sip, didn’t you?”

“Huh?” Now that Junhui looked, the length had indeed shortened, the ends barely brushing his shoulders. “Oh, shoot!” He accepted the bottle from Wonwoo.

“Go for blond,” the latter suggested.

Junhui looked up from the bottle. “Wouldn’t it be weird? I was a redhead last night.”

“People changing hair styles isn’t unusual here,” Chan provided. “Come on.” He nudged his side. “You can’t be the only one who keeps his ordinary looks out of all of us.”

Shooting him a flat look, Junhui waved his hands over his dress. “Really? You’re telling _me_ that?”

“Oh!” Chan laughed again, shaking his head in apology. “You know what I mean!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pretended to grumble, but chuckled in the end anyway. “So blond?”

“I think it’d suit you,” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Why? Because you were blond?” Junhui snickered. “Aren’t we a bit biased? Or do you just like blondes in general?”

Without missing a beat, he shoved his hands into his pockets and declared, “I like the moon and cute cats.”

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Junhui pointed out, uncapping the bottle.

But Wonwoo merely shrugged, smiling mysteriously.

Junhui didn’t get it. Throwing him a strange look, he shrugged it off and took a sip of the potion. Right away, golden locks tumbled down his back.

“Nice!” Chan approved.

Junhui shook his head just for the fun of it, giggling when a curtain of gold obscured his vision. After brushing it back, he raised his hand for Chan to high-five. “Now we’ll see if blondes have more fun.”

“Yeah!”

Off to the side, Wonwoo pretended to be offended from being left out.

Laughing, they made their way toward the stairs, hungry tummies excited at the prospect of food.

“Oh, before I forget!” Junhui tugged on the cousins’ arms. “I signed us in as Jung Wes, Yi Mike, and Moon Kat. So let’s practice even when we’re not in public to lessen the chance of accidental slip ups.”

“Code names!” Chan cheered in a whisper. “Awesome!”

They rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, Wonwoo taking the lead toward the dining room. Suddenly, something zoomed past them.

“Ark!”

“Kat!”

Were it not for Chan grabbing his shoulders, Junhui would have cracked his head on the last steps of the stairs, almost bulldozed over by a man running toward him and cutting the corner too sharply.

“Oh, dear heavens! I am so so sorry, miss. Are you all right?” Oliver fretted just as Junhui straightened out his clothes.

“I’m fine! It’s okay,” he replied quickly, doing his best to laugh off the trepidation he felt toward the man after that secret meeting he witnessed in the middle of the night.

He wondered if it was his imagination, but Chan scowled a little too much at Oliver. Sure, the fall could have been pretty bad, yet he didn’t think it warranted _that_ much resentment. Subtly, Junhui patted the younger’s back, both in reassurance and a reminder to loosen up before it became obvious.

Chan narrowed his eyes, but eventually relaxed.

None the wiser, Oliver bowed and apologized profusely at nearly injuring his guests. “Please accept my deepest apologies, miss. I will be sure to send over free—”

“No, please! It’s really okay!” Junhui interrupted. He didn’t want him to go into their rooms, least he accidentally overheard them.

Oliver still looked uncertain, but he checked his watch and had to relent. “If you insist.” He inclined his head again. “I don’t want to keep you any longer from breakfast. Please, excuse me.” Waving them toward the double doors of the dining hall, he ran past them and dashed up the stairs, a wooden box in his arms.

“As if he needed to be more shady than he already was,” Chan muttered, pushing the door open.

The dining hall nothing really distinctive. It mainly just looked a large room with tables set up for guests. By now, Junhui was used to the fairytale aesthetics, and while it fascinated him, he was more concerned about whether their little group stood out among the rest. They walked in, eyes scouring for an empty corner, away from wandering ears and eyes. So far, so good, Junhui thought, observing the guests enjoying their breakfasts, chatting among themselves or reading the papers. He couldn’t help but squint to try and see if their WANTED posters were printed on the page.

“He was in a hurry.” Wonwoo picked out the farthest table to give them some privacy from the other tenants, just in case.

“He was holding the box from last night.” Junhui sat down.

“I want to know what’s in it,” Chan said, observing the people around them.

“Aren’t you afraid it’s something dangerous?” Junhui asked. “What if it curses anyone who opens it? Or like, vaporizes you if you’re not careful?” Eyes wide, he lowered his voice. “What if it’s something creepy like a severed head?”

Wonwoo arched a brow at him. “Seriously?”

“The point is,” Junhui pointed at him, “We don’t know anything about it.”

“That is exactly why we should find out,” Chan insisted. “If it’s from Damhan, then it’s definitely not something trivial. I don’t know about severed body parts, but I think it’s worth checking out. For all we know, it could be some new tactic to capture Wonwoo.”

Chan made a very convincing argument.

The conversation came to a stop when a waitress approached them with a tray of drinks. They made their selections, Chan picking orange juice, Wonwoo preferring coffee, and Junhui asking for milk. The lady set down a jar of strawberry jam, along with a plate of fresh toasts, then she took their orders.

They ate like there was no tomorrow. With all the stress and danger, Junhui hadn’t realized how hungry he actually was until the first bite of bread made it past his mouth. He had to constantly remind himself to slow down. Getting a stomachache at his age would just be plain embarrassing. Luckily for him, the cousins also seemed to be as focused on their plates as he was, so no one teased anyone. 

Afterward, with his tummy full, Junhui felt like he could take on Warwick singlehandedly. Okay, so that was a bit of an exaggeration, but he felt so much more awake and energized, it was great. Chan sighed happily, patting his stomach.

“We really should stock up on food before we leave town,” he suggested, and Junhui agreed wholeheartedly.

“Let’s go explore!”

They pushed their chairs out, ready to leave, but something prompted Wonwoo to stop. He grabbed their wrists and tugged them back down. The other two shared a confused look, before following Wonwoo’s line of sight. At the door, Oliver had just come in, looking around as if searching for something.

“What are we waiting for?” Junhui asked in a hushed tone.

Before Wonwoo could answer, Oliver’s gaze flickered to their corner, and his eyes lit up in recognition. Like a man on a mission, he sauntered over.

“Oh, great,” Chan muttered under his breath.

“You’re the one who wanted to investigate,” Wonwoo reminded him.

Oliver arrived within earshot, so they all shut up, smiling politely at him.

“Hello! How was your breakfast?” he asked, expression bright.

Maybe it was because of Wonwoo’s influence, but Junhui couldn’t help studying Oliver’s eyes now that he stood so close. Unlike any eye color Junhui had seen—and thanks to Wonwoo he had seen plenty—his were an odd and concentrated shade of brownish-red. Maroon.

“Absolutely perfect,” Wonwoo praised. “Best pancakes I have ever eaten.” Junhui doubted that was completely true, not when he grew up with the best chefs in the whole country. “Everyone on your staff has been so friendly, too. Thank you.”

“Of course! I want to ensure that every guest enjoys their stay with us. Um...” Oliver seemed a bit nervous. “Please excuse my memory, but I am afraid I haven’t gotten around to remember all of the guests’ names yet.”

Wonwoo flashed a friendly smile, the perfect picture of easiness (even though Junhui’s stomach twisted in knots). “We understand. It’s rare for an inn keeper to take such great interests in his guests.”

_Ah_. There it is. The subtle question.

Chuckling, Oliver nodded. “If I may be frank, I think that’s what keeps my guests from returning, as opposed to choosing another establishment.”

“You mean it’s not the food?” Wonwoo kid, and Oliver laughed. “I’m Jung Wes,” he introduced himself, hand out to shake Oliver’s. “My friends: Kat and Mike.” Chan and Junhui both nodded in salutation.

“Pleasure to meet you. And once again, Miss Kat, I am _so_ sorry about what happened this morning.” He looked at Junhui with puppy eyes, his smile apologetic.

“Oh, no. Please, it was nothing.” Junhui shook his head and managed to smile. Oliver really took that incident to heart.

“How about I make it up to you?” he insisted, grinning at Junhui now.

“Huh?” The offer took him by surprise, body heating up from the unwanted attention. Instinctively, he threw a glance toward Wonwoo for help. _What do I do?_ Under the table, Wonwoo put a hand on his knee. Just a small gesture, but somehow, Junhui managed to find his voice.

“I mean, uh. Thank you, but I assure you that I wasn’t hurt. You don’t need to go through any trouble on my behalf.”

“On the contrary, it is no trouble at all.” Oliver reached behind him and grabbed a few pamphlets on the wooden cabinet there. “Since you’ll be staying in town for at least today, you should take the opportunity to visit our famous wineries and their vineyards.”

_Thank goodness it wasn’t anything weird_ , Junhui released a tiny breath. Pasting on a delighted expression, he accepted the brochures and map. As he did so, he noticed something on Oliver’s arm. With his sleeves rolled up, the tattoo of some kind of branch or vine with a flower climbed around his forearm.

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

“Thank you.”

As discretely as possible, Junhui glanced at Wonwoo and Chan for their input, but while Wonwoo still feigned politeness, his eyes had shifted to a slight silvery tint. Chan, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to hide his flat and unimpressed look.

“The perfume of the wine this time of the year is exquisite,” Oliver continued, pulling Junhui back into the conversation and prompting the latter to keep up his gentle smile.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“Yes.” Oliver’s grin turned impish as he added, “As enticing as a beautiful woman’s smile.”

Junhui’s face froze.

On the one hand, he was ecstatic that his disguise worked so well. But on the other, his brain just made a lot of _??????_ as he tried to understand the situation. Was Oliver flirting with him? No, he couldn’t be. This had to be part of his businessman tactics, throwing compliments around to please his guests and getting them to come back for the next stay.

With that realization, Junhui got a boost of energy. Two can play at that game, sir. He averted his eyes coyly, one hand cupping his cheek in shyness. “Oh. Thank you,” he whispered.

He expected Oliver to grin in satisfaction at getting the desired effect. He did _not_ expect the man to pick up his free hand and kiss the back of it, bowing as he retreated. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Kat.”

Junhui gaped, now genuinely flushed from embarrassment. In sharp contrast, Wonwoo’s grip on his knee turned painful enough that he nearly yelped.

“Thank you for your recommendations.” Smiling like he hadn’t almost crushed Junhui’s knee, Wonwoo picked up a brochure and made a show of looking through it. “We’ll definitely have to visit.”

Oliver, unaffected by the sudden drop in temperature in the room, wished them a good day as he left.

Once the man was out of earshot, Junhui whined. “That hurt! Why did you do that?” He rubbed at his knee under the table, pouting.

“Sorry.” Snapping out of the sudden bad mood, Wonwoo replaced Junhui’s hand with his, quickly removing the pain.

This time when they stood up to leave, no other interruption stopped them.

“Looks like someone _really_ likes blondes,” Chan snickered, nudging Junhui with his elbow.

“Stop it!” the older whined, swatting at him. “He was just sucking up to his guest. I bet he does that to everyone.”

“He didn’t kiss _my_ hand,” Chan pointed out, enjoying messing with Junhui way too much.

Junhui sucked in a breath to retort, when Wonwoo muttered something under his breath. “You should return to red.”

Because of the noisy hall, Junhui couldn’t catch it. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Never mind. Let’s go on this tour,” he said as they exited the inn. “It’ll provide us a good cover.”

Out in the street, Junhui shielded his eyes from the bright sun and looked around. Wonwoo opened up the brochure and gestured for them to follow. A meet-up spot for the tour was just up the street. A small group of tourists had already assembled there, chatting among themselves. The boys infiltrated the crowd, and Wonwoo handed Junhui some money for the tickets. No matter how good the new looks changed the Royals’ outward appearances, Junhui still had the advantage when it came to interacting with people. They weren’t as familiar with his face.

Returning with their tickets, he huddled up with the cousins toward the back of the group.

“What if they don’t stop by the monument?” he wondered, keeping his voice low. “They’re supposed to show us around the wineries, right?”

Wonwoo pointed to a picture in the pamphlet. “It’s included as the last stop. This monument is basically the town’s centerpiece.”

“I see.” Nodding, he glanced over to Chan, recalling the younger’s icy glare directed at Oliver. “Hey.” He nudged him, getting the boy’s attention. “Why were you so angry earlier? I thought you were going to kill Oliver with your eyes.”

Chan chuckled a little at the light tease. “Ah… You noticed?” He scratched his hair, a little sheepish.

“It was rather difficult to miss,” Wonwoo remarked.

The younger sighed and tilted his head toward the sky, rubbing his nape. Deciding on his thoughts, he returned his attention to his companions. “I think I might know Oliver.”

Wonwoo’s brows furrowed. “How?”

“It was too dark last night for me to notice, but this morning, I finally saw his eyes. They were that weird color...” He was struggling with the name, so Junhui helped.

“Maroon.”

Snapping his fingers, he pointed at him. “Maroon! Right. Anyway, that alone was suspicious enough, but then I saw his tattoo, which pretty much confirmed it.”

A commotion from the front put the conversation on pause. The tour guide rounded up everyone, introducing herself and gave them an overview of the day’s itinerary. Once a few questions were answered, they began to walk. The boys kept to the back, talking among themselves.

“The Seo family has been looking for a secret treasure for generations, rumored to be stolen goods from Everett, the theft committed by the people of Serenity Woods.”

“What?” Junhui couldn’t help exclaiming, and Chan gave him a nod.

On the other hand, Wonwoo remained calm, pondering the information. “Do you think it has anything to do with that box he was sneaking around?”

Chan shrugged. “Possibly.”

“How do you know about this?” Junhui asked.

“From my dad. One of his ‘side jobs’, I guess you can say, was to pursue those rumors and validate their claims. Even if it turned out that Serenity Woods was in the wrong, he wanted to uncover the truth.” Instead of sounding sad, Chan spoke about his father with pride, and Junhui was glad. It must be hard on him, but the boy was so strong.

They came upon the first stop in the tour. Junhui hadn’t been paying attention, so he didn’t catch the name of the winery. The tour guide gestured for everyone to file inside, moving slowly through the old building. The lady’s voice echoed slightly, explaining the process of wine making in general terms, guiding them past different pieces of equipment.

After they listened to the history of this establishment and what made this wine different from any other ones, wine tasting was offered. Junhui declined, while the cousins each downed the tiny cup. From their flat expressions, they weren’t impressed. The tour resumed.

“So is Oliver’s family part of some kind of secret organization or something?” Junhui inquired, still very much confused. “And what do his eye color and tattoo have to do with it?”

“To answer the first question: yes. It originally started out with his family, but over time, they managed to collect supporters. At the root of it, they’re a group of extremists, believing unconditionally in Everett and its leaders. No matter what.”

“That sounds…” Junhui made a face, and Chan scoffed.

“I agree. Anyway, as for the tattoo. It’s the symbol of their group.”

“Then for us to stay at his inn is suicidal,” Junhui concluded.

“Kinda.”

Groaning, Junhui pressed his hands to his face. “Wonderful.”

“Should I keep explaining?” Chan chuckled.

“Yes, sorry. Please, go on. His eyes.”

“As you can probably tell, maroon is not a normal eye color,” Chan began.

Sneaking a peek at Wonwoo’s purple eyes, Junhui muttered, “Under normal circumstances, I would agree…”

Chan snickered, while Wonwoo made a show of rolling his eyes. “I don’t have poison ivy.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, you know about it, too!” Chan exclaimed, surprised.

Wonwoo nodded. “Only vaguely.”

Walking in between the cousins, Junhui turned his head left and right, hoping for someone to clarify the situation, because he was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the itchy plant.

“Their entire family have it,” Chan went on. “It’s always been greed for them.”

They approached another site on the map, but this time, it was a vineyard. The whole group proceeded into the main building for the history lesson and some Q&A. Then they crossed the room and emerged into the large balcony that overlooked the whole field. The view was spectacular. Sunshine made the tiny droplets of water on the leaves glisten, and even from this distance, they could spot the large and juice grapes peeking out. To his excitement, they were allowed to walk through the field, watching the red grapes tan prettily. At the end of the visit, the owners gifted them a small bunch of grapes. This time, Junhui accepted with glee. And then he laughed even harder when the cousins handed him their portions because they couldn’t handle the sour taste.

Unfortunately, the conversation about Oliver and his family’s secret organization couldn’t be discussed further, as the tour got a little rowdy. The boys didn’t want to raise their voices to be heard, so they pretended to be tourists for the time being. It gave Junhui some time to go over all the information Chan provided, but he still felt like he was missing something. He’ll have to ask Wonwoo explain later in order to catch up.

The tour group trod along the streets of Grapendale until late afternoon, the guide chatting on and on about the small town and showing them the various shops and places to stay, the historical sites where battles and events happened. Junhui pretty much zoned out during all those lectures. When he turned to the boys, though, they had separated. Wonwoo feigned interest in the architecture, while Chan wandered to the edge of the group, face tense. Whatever he was thinking about, it seemed that he wanted to be left alone.

Junhui had believed that the younger was doing okay, but maybe this was reopening old wounds. After all, it involved his father. No matter how strong he was, it must still hurt. Junhui debated if he should go over, but in the end, he deemed it better to let Chan figure out his emotions on his own. Sometimes it was best to be left alone. Whenever Chan wanted to talk it out, Junhui would be ready to listen.

As such, Junhui walked near him, but didn’t infringe on his bubble. In the meantime, Junhui’s mind drifted to Oliver and the inn. It was dangerous to stay there, but Chan wanted to investigate—partly because they needed to know if Warwick sent Damhan out on some kind of errand to capture Wonwoo—but also because it involved a case his father worked on. Chan probably wanted to give his father some closure, too. Consequently, while the prudent path would be to find somewhere else to stay, they’ll have to risk it. He really hoped their disguises won’t fail them. So far, they seemed to work great on Oliver. Thinking of that now brought forth his memories from this morning, and Junhui cringed at the inn keeper’s actions. Hadn’t he been too over-the-top in his attempt to charm his customers?

After such a show, he would definitely get _really_ mad if the truth ever came out. According to Chan, that secret organization he was part of loathed Serenity Woods. As the saying goes: keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer. There was no way that Oliver wouldn’t be able to recognize the Crown Prince and his cousin. Cold dread rolled down his spine as Junhui considered the possibility that Oliver might have any suspicions about them. After all, hair styles and accessories—while great tools to change someone’s appearance—still had their limits. What if Oliver had tried to get close to them this morning as an excuse to observe them? Junhui gnawed on his bottom lip, fingers tugging at the ribbons on his bodice restlessly.

“Jun! There you are!” A glacial chill spread through his body at the sound of his name spoken through a stranger’s voice, and he turned to look on instinct.

He realized with relief that it wasn’t meant for him at all. A mother was tugging on the hand of her toddler, scolding the kid for running out on her to play with the cat in front of the nearby shop.

“Don’t just wander away from the group, princess.” Suddenly, Wonwoo grabbed his hand and pulled Junhui against him, cradling Junhui’s face close to his shoulder. Just as he was about to ask him what was going on, Wonwoo leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “That was close, _Kat_ , there’s a weird guy on the street corner looking this way.”

Junhui turned as rigid as a board. “Do you think we’ve been followed all day?” he whispered, fingers bunching into Wonwoo’s shirt.

Wonwoo’s hand slowly messaged Junhui’s back, loosening the muscles a bit. “I don’t know, but it’s not an impossibility.”

“Where’s Ch—er—Mike?” Just as he asked, Chan crossed his line of sight, mind still far away. “Oh.”

He felt Wonwoo sigh. “I shouldn’t have asked him for so many details about his father’s investigations.”

“Should we do something?”

“You can try, but I think he simply misses his dad,” Wonwoo said softly. “And it doesn’t help that he never got the chance to say a proper goodbye.”

Junhui nodded.

“The faster we resolve this mess with the Seos, the better off we’ll be,” Wonwoo gritted out with so much repressed irritation, it startled him.

“R-right. Um.” At the risk of irking him even more, Junhui had to bring himself to ask for some more details. “Could you actually tell me what you and Chan were talking about concerning that poison ivy thingie?”

Wonwoo’s stony expression cracked slightly, showing a small smile. “Be sure to take notes, okay?”

Pretending to be vexed, Junhui scrunched up his face. “I’ll do my best, Teacher.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “So I believe you know what poison ivy is?” Junhui nodded. “Okay, well, when people are exposed to poison ivy, they get that insane itch, right? A sensation that makes them do crazy things just to get that itch off of them. It’s not something you can just forget or ignore. The concept of Poison Ivy is based on that.”

Junhui nodded that he was still following.

“Now, if a person is exposed to say... unlimited wealth, or just the thought of being the wealthiest person alive, something inside them starts to sprout. That ‘itch’ you can say. Ideally, when you accidentally get exposed to the plant, you’re supposed to get it treated. Scratching the area too much could lead to an infection, and then the injury festers. Well, the same principle applies for Poison Ivy, the condition. The thought of that wealth, for example, keeps on growing and eventually it festers into something harmful to you. In this example, it’s the greed that consumes you.”

“That’s… bad.”

“Yes. You’re not supposed to scratch the irritated area because it’ll only make it worse. For our example, it’s money. The more they acquire, the worse the greed gets, until it becomes all consuming.”

“Is that what makes their eyes turn that odd color?”

“Yeah.”

Junhui stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing the new information. “Would that work with other bad emotions? Jealousy? Lust? Hatred? Anger? Bloodlust? Guilt?”

“Mm. It can take over anyone at any moment if we’re not careful.” His voice sounded so far away, Junhui had to turn to look at him fully. And then it clicked.

“Are you worried it’ll happen to you?”

Wonwoo offered him a small smile, pushing his glasses up.

Putting his hands on his hips, Junhui frowned. “I won’t allow it!”

That got him laughing in a fond and indulgent way. “No?”

“No! And besides, you’re a good person. With good intentions!”

Patiently, Wonwoo patted his head. “A good person with good intentions can still do bad things, princess.”

Still dissatisfied, Junhui was ready to argue some more, but Wonwoo pointed in front of them. “Come on. We’re here.”

“Here where?” As if just waking up, Junhui looked around them.

The tour guide had already gathered the group around the last stop of the tour. They surrounded a large granite monument. The lady gave them her usual lecture about the artist who created the piece, but Junhui let her words enter one ear and go out through the other. He scooted closer to Wonwoo.

“Is that it?”

“Uh-huh. Go take a closer look.” He searched the crowd, then waved. “Mike!”

Right on cue, Chan turn around and walked over. Junhui followed Wonwoo’s advice and moved closer, mindful of the tourists around him. Standing there, he craned his neck, letting out an impressed “Wow!” The way the elements were combined together took his breath away.

The base was a black marble bowl, about five feet in diameter, just floating in midair. In the center of the bowl, a huge fire burned. The flames licked and danced animatedly, but something maintained the flame in the shape of a water drop. Upon closer inspection, Junhui realized that the granite bowl was suspended in the air due to a very strong gust of wind, the same that shaped the fire into a drop. To top off the incredible sight, water flowed out of the bowl like a fountain, spraying tiny droplets around the area.

He had no idea how long he stood there, watching the spectacle until Wonwoo approached.

“Pretty neat, huh?” he heard Wonwoo ask by his side.

“This is... it’s just...” He couldn’t find the words to even speak. “Wow!”

Wonwoo chuckled.

Chan joined them. “There are too many people here. We’ve tried looking for the next clue, but we can’t draw too much attention to ourselves.”

“It’s probably hidden in the cracks or on the inside of the bowl,” Wonwoo added.

“At any rate, we’ll have to return some other time.”

“Like at dawn?” Junhui asked.

“Yeah.”

With the tour coming to an end, they headed back toward the inn. To limit their interactions with Oliver for the time being, they stopped by a shop and bought some sandwiches for dinner.

Back at the inn, it was fairly quiet. Aside from the old men quietly playing chess in the lobby, they didn’t run into anyone. No Oliver in sight, either. A nice reprieve. Holding the basket of sandwiches, Junhui headed up the stairs first, the cousins trailing after him. He was already imagining how yummy it’ll be, head filling up with happy thoughts.

Unfortunately, a strange package sitting outside his door rudely woke him up. He halted, causing Chan to bump into his shoulder.

“Hey! What’s wrong?”

“There’s something there,” Junhui whispered, as if the small box with the pink bow could hear him.

“Where?” Chan peeked over his shoulder. Upon seeing it, he snickered. “Looks like someone got a secret admirer~”

“Hush! What if it’s a bomb?”

Chan stopped laughing.

Heaving a sigh, Wonwoo pushed his way up the final steps and moved them aside. His expression turned even more wary at the sight of the bow. He took a careful step forward, and Junhui in his panic, pulled him back by the shirt.

“Careful!”

“It’s fine. Let go.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

After a moment, Wonwoo declared, “I don’t sense anything. It’s not a bomb.”

Junhui sighed and sagged against the wall. “Thank goodness. Someone probably got the wrong room.” He walked over and picked it up. “Oh, there’s a card. Maybe we can leave it at the front desk and let it reach the real recipient.” He flipped it over to see _TO MISS MOON KAT._

Next to him, Chan burst into laughter, and Junhui shushed him.

“Could there be another person named Moon Kat here?”

“It’s most likely from Oliver. He’s the only one with access to the guest list.”

Junhui frowned, staring down at the gift box. “But why?”

“He likes you~” Chan laughed. “Or, well. He likes Miss Moon Kat.”

“Stop it!” Junhui swatted at him, making the younger laugh some more. “I thought you didn’t even like him.”

“I don’t,” Chan confirmed right away. “But your reactions are hilarious.”

Junhui clicked his tongue and pretended to hit him. “Anyway.” He shook the box. “Can I open it?” he asked Wonwoo.

Something unpleasant flickered over the latter’s expression, but he hid it in the same second, nodding curtly. “I don’t sense any magic or enchantment.”

Junhui pulled on the bow and lifted the lid. Laying inside was a white and pink silk scarf. “Yikes, this looks expensive,” he assessed. “I can’t keep this.”

Chan took a look. “Fancy,” he commented, fingers feeling the material. Suddenly, his face lit up, and a mischievous grin appeared. He met his cousin’s gaze, the boys seemingly discussing something telepathically.

Wonwoo grimaced, eyes flickering to Junhui, clearly debating. Whatever it was, Wonwoo didn’t like it.

“Come on!” Chan insisted. “Think of the greater cause. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“What will?” Junhui asked, head turning from one cousin to the other.

Wonwoo still didn’t like the idea—whatever it was, expression grim. Eventually, though, he relented with a pained sigh, rubbing at his face. “Fine.”

Chan cheered. “Yes!”

“How come I’m always the bait?” Junhui grumbled as Wonwoo guided him by the hand to the upper floor, toward Oliver’s quarters. He dragged his feet up the steps a little, because he didn’t think stomping would be tolerable.

“You’re not bait,” Wonwoo corrected.

“Oh, right.” Junhui pouted. “I’m an undercover agent.”

Wonwoo chuckled, but it didn’t sound all that cheerful. “Just consider it a job.”

Junhui sighed. “Last time, I channelled Little Red Ridding Hood for the distraction, which worked out pretty well, since we were in the woods. But what even am I this time?”

“You’re perfect,” he said easily.

Junhui almost choked, all previous complaints forgotten for the benefit of hiding his blushing cheeks. He put a hand over his tummy, hoping it’ll be able to calm the summersaults. He peeked over at Wonwoo, but the latter carried on calmly, completely unaware of his effects on Junhui.

“Besides, you’re the one who said you wanted to help Mike.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Junhui muttered, glad for the subject change.

“We all play to our strengths.”

“Then what’s mine?”

Flashing him a grin, Wonwoo said, “Distraction.”

“Hey!” he whined, but he couldn’t help smiling as he bumped their shoulders together. “So what exactly do you want me to do?”

Wonwoo gave his hand a squeeze. “Keep him occupied. If possible, try to get to the box, or get him to tell you what’s in there. If anything happens… I’ll be there, I promise.”

Junhui’s heart skipped a beat.

“Okay.” They stepped onto the landing. “How long will Mike need?” he whispered.

At this very moment, Chan was sitting in the lobby, waiting to snoop inside Oliver’s stuff around the front desk and inside the backroom. While the older two had insisted that Wonwoo should accompany him, Chan had declined, stating that Junhui needed Wonwoo around in case they were correct about Oliver’s true nature. Between Chan and Junhui, the former had more experience in getting out of trouble unscathed. If things went from bad to worst, Chan could whip up a quick spell to escape, whereas Junhui didn’t have any magical knowledge. As a result, Wonwoo allowed him to go alone, while he accompanied Junhui and stood guard.

“As long as you can possibly give him,” Wonwoo replied. “But don’t get in over your head, okay?” His expression turned hard. “At the first sign of danger, hit him and run. I’ll take care of the rest.”

While it felt comforting to know Wonwoo had his back, Junhui couldn’t suppress the tiny shudder upon hearing the repressed aggression in his voice.

The pair walked down the hall to the correct door, and Junhui used the last few seconds to straighten out his clothes and hair, flicking the end of the gifted scarf over his shoulder. Time to get into character—whatever character this was.

“Ready?” Wonwoo raised his fist to the door.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Wonwoo offered a sympathetic smile, then knocked on the door. Before Junhui could even suck in a breath, Wonwoo ran out of sight.

Not a second too soon. The hinges creaked, and the door swung open. Junhui pasted on a friendly smile right as Oliver appeared, seemingly surprised to see him.

“Miss Kat, hello!” he greeted, grin growing wider.

Giggling coyly, Junhui lowered his eyes. “Good evening, Oliver. You can call me Kat, it’s fine.”

“Kat, then. Very well,” he agreed easily. “Please. Come in.”

_First step: success_.

Junhui didn’t dare look back toward Wonwoo, afraid Oliver might notice the minute action. 

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“Oh, yes.” Junhui nodded. Keeping his smile, he stepped over the threshold.

The suite was quite bare for someone who lived here permanently. Unless that was just it: he didn’t live here at all. Was this all for show? Junhui tucked that piece of information away. Oliver might simply be the minimalist sort of person, but since they knew nothing about him, Junhui still had to jot it down in his mental notepad.

This room could probably be considered a sitting room, with a set of comfortable looking armchairs and a two-person couch surrounding a coffee table. A few paintings hung on the wall in between the narrow bookcases. Pushed against the wall next to the window was his desk, flanked by some cabinets and shelves. Through the open doorway, Junhui could glimpse at the foot of a bed and a dresser, so he surmised it was Oliver’s bedroom.

“Would you like something to drink?” the man asked, closing the door and following him in.

“Oh, no thank you.” That was just asking for trouble. Junhui had read and seen too many stories where the tea was poisoned. “I just came here to thank you for the beautiful scarf.” Junhui smiled, touching the silk around his throat.

Oliver grinned, happiness flashing in his eyes like neon bulbs. “I’m so glad it is to your liking. By coincidence, I fell upon it today, while running an errand in town. I thought of you.”

Oh, geez. Junhui felt the bottom of his stomach drop, but he kept the smile sweet on his face as he ducked, as though to conceal the shyness. “You flatter me.” Partly to run away and to help him investigate, Junhui wandered toward the window. “Oh, my! Look at this view! It’s gorgeous!” Even as he let the words fall from his lips in rapid succession, praising the sunset, his eyes roamed over the contents on the desk. Unfortunately, there was nothing but receipts and bills. _Darn it!_

“Well, I can’t complain,” Oliver replied in a low voice, footsteps approaching behind him.

Junhui looked over his shoulder, smile coy. “Few people can resist the pull of the sun.”

The strange colored eyes roamed over Junhui’s face, and the latter prayed with all his might that his disguise wouldn’t fail him, especially in such close proximity. Luckily for him, Oliver took in his nervousness and agitation as as a sign of excitement, and his grin widened. He lifted his hand to toy with a strand of golden hair, twirling it lazily.

“Mm. I’m afraid I am but a moth.” He leaned forward, and Junhui reeled back, almost smacking the back of his head against the glass. Thankfully, at the last minute, his acting overpowered his instincts, and he placed a hand over Oliver’s chest, pouting a little.

“Oliver,” he whined, batting his lashes. It really helped that the man was a few inches taller than him. He could sell the allure of the demure beauty a whole easier.

“My apologies.” Although Oliver looked anything but regretful, still leering at him. He picked up Junhui’s hand from his chest. “Another time perhaps?”

_I surely hope not!_

But wait, was taking the rejection to mean Junhui wanted to leave? No, not yet! Chan still needed more time to snoop!

Junhui pouted even more, doe eyes round and pleading. “Are you bored of my company already?”

“No! Oh, good heavens, no!” Oliver shortened the distance between them right away, gaze (almost) earnest.

In response, Junhui grinned happily. “That’s a relief,” he giggled. “I admit that I did have another reason to come see you this evening.”

“Oh?” His eyes flashed, and the smirk turned sly.

_Not so fast, sir!_

“Earlier this morning, I did notice that beautiful box you carried.” Junhui pulled his hand back and toyed with the buttons on Oliver’s coat. “You know, before you ran into me.” He giggled, in a way he hoped was seductive. All those years messing around with his friends, trying to come up with the cheesiest pickup lines, apparently did him no good when it came time to do it in practice. He was really out of his depth here.

Oliver suddenly tensed as he computed Junhui’s words. The latter pretended not to notice, smile innocent and eyes bright.

“You must have a keen eye,” Oliver commented, voice a little careful. Probably afraid of offending his guest. “Most people wouldn’t have noticed something like that in a collision.”

“Well,” Junhui bit his bottom lip and looked up through his lashes. “Would you believe me if I said it was because you were carrying it?” This was so embarrassing, Junhui wanted to crawl under the desk and hide.

Seemed like it worked, though. The sly smirk returned to Oliver’s face. “I can’t say I’m displeased.”

Junhui placed both hands on his chest, gazing up at him with the same pleading look. “May I please see it? It looked so intriguing, unlike anything I had ever seen before.”

Oliver hesitated for a moment, conflicting emotions flickering over his features. Junhui pouted for good measure. In the end, he sighed, fingers running up Junhui’s spine, toying with the ribbons. “You are a very hard woman to say no to.”

Junhui could have wept with joy.

Turning around, Oliver walked to a shelf and shifted a few books to the side. Moments later, he brought the wooden box out. Seeing it up close, it looked like a regular old fashioned jewelry box, except for one detail.

“Is the sliding puzzle in place of a lock?” Junhui guessed, eyeing the colorful ceramic pieces sitting on top of the lid.

“That’s correct. It ensures that only an educated person with the knowledge of the image can open it, while a mere key is accessible to anyone.” He handed it to Junhui to see.

“How have you come to possess such a unique item?” His fingertips traced the tiles, trying to determine the whole image. This was the Royal Library puzzle all over again.

“It belonged to my father, whom got it from his father.”

“So it is a family heirloom.”

“Precisely. You see, they all believed in this treasure, smuggled away from thieves and hidden somewhere in Serenity Woods. Along the years, many good men have tried to locate it and bring it back to where it belonged, but the Serenity Woods authority would always intercept them.”

“And what happened to the goods? And the… team?”

“Everything was confiscated and brought up to their King and Queen,” he sat maliciously. “Dirty, lying thieves.” All traces of the friendly inn keeper vanished as his eyes began to burn like embers. “As for our people, they were arrested and thrown in prison. A couple years later, they were pardoned and returned to us.” He scoffed. “As if to show how merciful and kind Serenity Woods is.” The bitterness and resentment in his tone filled Junhui with dread.

Clearly, Wonwoo and Chan had been correct in their assessment. Seo Oliver _really_ hated their country.

“How awful,” Junhui said sympathetically. “Hasn’t there been any formal hearing about such actions?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s sweet and naive of you to think they would even admit to stealing those artifacts from Everett in the first place. Our people had to resort to smuggle our own goods back, and of course, _we’re_ the ones accused of being thieves.”

“But how can you be sure that it was really Serenity Woods that took those artifacts from Everett?” It was an honest question, but Oliver pinned him with a burning glare.

“Are you accusing us of lies?” he growled.

“No!” Junhui said quickly, hands raised in defense. An icy chill shot down his spine at the viciousness and sudden shift in attitude. “I-I’m just trying to understand. What if someone truly did steal all that wealth, but they hid the treasure and blamed Serenity Woods?”

“Impossible!” He shook his head. “No man in Everett would commit such a crime. Besides, what would you make of the executions and unlawful imprisonment cases?”

“I beg your pardon? I thought you said the people were pardoned and released after a couple years.”

He laughed wryly. “Oh, yes. The workers. But not the leaders and strategists.” Voice growing quiet, he ran the pad of his fingertip over the wooden box. “My uncle died in prison, and my father was shot. I was thirteen.” Junhui stayed quiet, unable to come up with anything to say. “When it comes to money, there’s no ocean too deep. They’re ready to do anything.” 

Junhui didn’t know what to think anymore. Admittedly, he was beyond biased. From the facts he had seen, nothing pointed to Serenity Woods being capable of such atrocities, but then how he could explain Oliver’s claims about his uncle and father? It could be as easy Oliver lying to him. Yet something about the grief and sadness that colored his words made it hard for Junhui to dismiss his claims. Something didn’t quite add up.

After a short pause, Oliver continued. “If it wasn’t for Mr. Damhan, the court’s advisor, I never would have found out the truth.”

At the name, Junhui jolted a little, but he masked it by shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He stayed quiet, listening to the rest of the story.

“The missing treasure and my family’s lifelong mission to retrieve it was supposed to stay secret until I turned of age, but my father died prematurely. Mr. Damhan came to pay his respect to my mother, and he took me to the field where my father was shot mere hours earlier.”

Junhui gasped a little. No matter what, how could someone take a mere child to such a place?

A cold smile tugged the corner of Oliver’s lips. “I’ll spare you the gory details, Kat, don’t worry. Mr. Damhan stayed with me until I had cried my fill. Then from that day onward, he gave me the necessary documents and plans that would allow me to continue my father’s mission.”

In the suffocating silence, Junhui managed to find his voice. “I’m sorry.”

As if he hadn’t heard him, Oliver gritted out, “It was sickening enough that their Prince let Princess Lianna die earlier that year—” Junhui curled his fingers into the fabric of his skirt, clamping down on his lips to stop himself from crying out in outrage. “But for them to kill our people in secret when we merely tried to right the wrong…” He shook his head in disgust. “Despicable.”

Pushing aside his personal feelings toward Wonwoo’s mistake as a child, Junhui thought about this new piece of information. “May I please ask… The death of your father and uncle occurred in the same year as Princess Lianna’s death?”

“Yes, is something the matter?”

Junhui shook his head. “No, um... I was only having a little trouble seeing the timeline of events,” he replied, smiling a little. There had to be a connection. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the Seo men were killed shortly after Princess Lianna passed away. “Had Serenity Woods ever executed their prisoners?”

“Not before that year,” he answered. “It was probably a show of power, meant to intimidate us from trying to hurt their Prince in retribution.” He rolled his eyes.

A small tingling around his ring finger caught his attention, and Junhui glanced at his hand. When he didn’t see anything, he figured he probably brushed a loose thread, but then the tingling happened again. Then he realized it must be Wonwoo’s signal for him to leave. Chan probably finished snooping. He didn’t get a chance to open the box, but if he asked now, it’d look too suspicious.

He looked around for a clock, then feigned shock. “Oh! Is it that late already? I am sorry for taking so much of your time.”

Oliver’s expression smoothed out, seemingly letting go of his grudge against Serenity Woods for now. “There’s no need for apologies,” he smiled politely. “It was a pleasure having you keep me company.”

Junhui nodded, lowering his gaze. “Thank you once more for the beautiful gift. Goodnight, Oliver.”

He walked him to the door, opening it for him. “Goodnight, Kat.”

To avoid any awkward handholding or whatnot, Junhui knotted his fingers behind his back, turning to bow his goodbye, before retreating with a smile. The moment he heard the door click, he hurried down the hall.

“How did it go?”

Junhui jumped, gasping as Wonwoo emerged from the corner. “Oh, man,” he breathed.

“Sorry.” Wonwoo smoothed down his hair then cupped his face, looking at him from different angles.

It was kind of weird to talk when his cheeks were being mushed together, so he laughed a little as he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Checking.” Wonwoo’s brows were still furrowed. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?”

“Huh? N-no, not really.”

Wonwoo gave him a look.

“He didn’t grope me or anything,” he said, making a face. “But he was a little touchy, like in the morning. Anyway! Let’s just say I am glad it’s over. Whew!”

Wonwoo looked like he ate something sour and bitter at the same time.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Let’s go. Chan is waiting in the room.”

Back in Wonwoo’s room, Chan had brought back tons of documents, which made Junhui go into a panic attack because if Oliver returned to his desk downstairs tonight, there was no way he wouldn’t notice all the missing papers. But Chan assured him that these were copies—using a duplicate spell—and the original ones were where they were supposed to be. Before they went through them, the cousins indicated for Junhui to go first. He told them everything the best he could, along with his suspicions.

“Oliver’s not driven by greed; he’s blinded by vengeance and grief.”

Chan shook his head and said, “My dad couldn’t have been responsible for the Seo men’s deaths.” He was adamant. “And there is no chance that he would’ve had anything to do with a prisoner’s death, either.”

“Theft is inevitable,” Wonwoo added. “But none of them had ever concluded in execution, no matter the worth of the items.” He rubbed his forehead. “What the hell was Warwick planning in blaming Serenity Woods so early on?”

The three of them stayed quiet, mental gears turning, but drawing blank cards.

Wonwoo heaved a sigh. “Let’s see if something in here can help point us to the right direction.” He gestured toward the pile of papers sitting on his bed.

Meticulously, they went through the papers one by one, getting as much information as they could. Most of them were rendezvous notes between the members of the organization. There were maps of tunnels that they had dug, going from the border between the two countries all the way to the castle. As if that wasn’t disturbing enough, blueprints of the castle itself were included. The plan was always the same: infiltrate the castle and bring back as much as possible without getting caught.

“I think I got something,” Wonwoo said, picking up a piece of paper. “It’s dating back to the early 1920s, probably the first message to the Seos about the stolen goods.” He quickly skimmed through the message and before Junhui could even ask, he continued, “Oliver’s grandfather was driven by greed. He was promised triple the amount of goods he could get back to Everett from Serenity Woods by Warwick II.”

“But why? Were the goods really stolen from here?” Junhui wanted to know.

“If I remember my history lessons correctly,” Wonwoo started, “During his reign, Warwick II—the father of the one on the throne now—sold part of Everett to Serenity Woods, which was later found to have ancient artifacts buried there. They offered to buy it back, but Serenity Woods declined, building a museum for the relics for everyone to come and see.”

“You think they would kill over ancient artifacts?” Junhui asked, incredulous. 

“They would if they were told that we stole them from Everett,” Wonwoo answered. 

“By someone they trusted more than anything,” added Chan. “Warwick II really made himself into a fool when he practically begged for us to give back the land.”

“Besides the historical value, was there anything else that might have made him go to that extent?” Junhui asked.

“Maybe the cave that his son is trying to find today.” Wonwoo looked gravely at Junhui. “It would explain why he was so desperate to get the land back.”

“So then,” Junhui tried to summarize what they knew, “Warwick II sold off part of the land that he deemed useless to Serenity Woods. Later, priceless artifacts were found and kept as historical tokens. Thinking that land might contain the cave with all the magical rocks, Warwick II tried to get it back, turning himself into a fool. In order to get back at Serenity Woods, he approached a group of extreme loyalists, seeking their ‘help’ and promising them riches for their contribution to the country. Those people eventually fell victim to Poison Ivy due to the greed.”

“Yes.”

“Among those loyalists was Oliver’s grandfather, whom later left behind that recovery mission to his son—the man who was ‘executed.’ The group believed that they were serving their country, restoring justice, but in fact, they truly were stealing historical tokens that rightfully belong to Serenity Woods. The people who were caught were put in jail for a short time, then released.”

“Right.” Chan took over, “And when Warwick II died, he passed everything on to his son to continue. Things changed when his daughter died…” he grew quiet, sneaking a peek at his cousin.

But Wonwoo didn’t react. His face remained calm and focused, eyes purple with no signs of silver. After a few seconds, he stated, “Something happened. After his daughter died, he probably fell under Poison Ivy’s influence, caused by the grief and need for revenge.”

Junhui tried to think back to his meeting with Warwick. He definitely didn’t have maroon eyes. “How come his eyes aren’t that weird color?”

“For the benefit of the country, he must have found a way to hide it,” Chan explained.

“We’re still missing something,” Wonwoo insisted, frowning at the papers. “Why did he wait until this year to enact his revenge? To go search for the cave?”

Sharing a look with Chan, Junhui asked hesitantly, “So what do we do?”

“Our priority is solving the riddles, but uncovering the truth behind the Seo family and these supposed executions might help us find the missing piece of the puzzle. It’s all connected; we just need to go at it from a different angle.”

Chan nodded in agreement, stacking the papers into a neater pile. “I want to spend more time going over these.”

“Don’t overwork yourself,” Wonwoo said as the younger stood up to stretch. “We have an early start in the morning.”

“I know.” Chan dropped his arms. “Goodnight.”

“See you in a few hours.”

“‘Night, Channie.” Junhui waved.

The door shut quietly behind him, plunging the room in silence. Wonwoo got to his feet and strode to the window. He stared at the quiet night, then lifted his face to the moon peeking through the clouds.

Back still turned, he asked in a small voice, “Do you think those people could have been spared if Lianna didn’t die?”

Junhui chose his words carefully. He knew the doubts and guilt were quickly wrapping around Wonwoo’s head, barring him from considering the situation objectively. No one could deny that Princess Lianna’s death played a part in her father’s immoral plans, but it wasn’t the only factor. “As traumatic as it must have been for him, I think that sooner or later, he would have found a way to turn Serenity Woods into the bad guy in order to get what he wants.” Junhui picked at the linen. “After all, it started all the way back from Warwick II.”

Sighing, Wonwoo mused under his breath, “How many more lives will suffer because of this thirst for power?”

“Wonwoo,” he called softly.

When there was no sign that Wonwoo would turn around, Junhui slid off the bed and walked to the window. He wound his arms around his waist and pressed his face against the slope of the other’s shoulder.

“You might not realize this, but you were caught in his web of lies and deceit, too. He used your mistake as a child to justify his actions, shoving all the blame onto you. You disappeared because you were afraid of harming your people and country with your powers, but _he_ is the one who took advantage of your absence to attack. _He_ killed all those innocent Serenity Woods citizens and put them in jail. _He_ lied and led the Seo men to their deaths.” Junhui squeezed him tighter, burrowing closer. “Just because he doesn’t take responsibility doesn’t mean that you have to shoulder the consequences and the blame.”

In the reflection of the glass, he saw Wonwoo smile faintly, hand coming to rest over Junhui’s. His purple eyes were clear, yet so forlorn. “If I don’t, who will?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooooooh junnie back in his fancy dresses! 😆 if this were a movie, the team changing looks would totally be in a fun montage hahaha. no but junnie basically spends the entire chapter in his fancy dress lololol
> 
> but oliver... at this point, idk whether to feel sorry for him for believing lies, or irritated bc he's kind of a sleazy dude =/ but hey, BITTERWOO!!! hahahahaha good to see you again, my good man! ;D
> 
> sorry for the cliffhanger-ish ending... but if you watched wonu's ep of hit the road, i think you'll agree that it's pretty accurate to IRL wonu 😭 thanks, pizza, for pointing it out 😭😭😭
> 
> next chapter is gonna be EXCITING!!! bc ACTION! \\(*0*)/ i will try to get it done asap! yayaya!
> 
> thank you very much for reading! i hope you liked it! :D take care, you guys~  
> xoxoxo


	16. Dead Man's Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WonHui uncover Oliver's involvement in the grand scheme, and Channie gets into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody. I hope you guys are doing well. I apologize for the late posting, but with the recent events, it didn't seem appropriate.
> 
> With that said, I hope I can offer some entertainment with this chapter (๑>ᴗ<๑)
> 
> WARNING: mild violence and blood
> 
> -

“Junnie. Junnie, wake up.”

Eyes still shut tight, Junhui whined and felt for the covers to pull them over his head. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. He heard Wonwoo chuckle somewhere above his head, giving his shoulder a nudge. Junhui wiggled around.

“We need to get going before anyone comes into the monument plaza.”

“Okay…” he groaned, relenting, his voice thick with sleep. He was usually pretty good at waking up early, but he had been so exhausted lately. How did Wonwoo even manage? Did he sleep at all?

Sitting up, Junhui tugged the blanket off of his head, gaze still a little hazy. “Is Channie up yet?”

“I just went to wake him up, but he wants to stay behind to go through the papers some more,” Wonwoo said. “It’d be beneficial to have one of us here to keep an eye on Oliver, too.”

“Right.” Junhui nodded, leaning his body forward to stretch. He fell with a small _fump!_ on the mattress, rubbing at his eyes.

Wonwoo approached and carded his hand through the red locks. “Come on. I’ll buy you breakfast afterward.”

That woke him up. Eyes shining, he turned to grin dopily at Wonwoo. “Promise?”

The latter laughed. “Promise. Now hurry up.” He punctuated his sentence with a light smack on the boy’s butt.

With newfound energy, Junhui disentangled himself from the comfort of the bed and almost face-planted on the floor because of the excitement. Wonwoo caught him, though, clicking his tongue and sighing. “You’re such a handful.”

Junhui scrunched up his face.

A few minutes later, he returned to the room, showered and dressed. He found Wonwoo sitting on the bed, head bowed, focused on the riddle book. Without the grogginess of sleep, Junhui zeroed in on his hair color.

“Oh, our disguise!” he exclaimed, digging around for the bottle. He took a sip, shaking out the blond locks as he handed it over for Wonwoo to turn his hair black again. “And don’t forget your glasses.”

“Mm.” He took the round frames from his shirt pocket and slid them on. “Let’s go.”

Outside, the street lamps still burned, fighting off the darkness. At the very edge of the horizon, a tiny strip of light could be seen. Dawn would probably break in an hour or so. Through the empty streets, the boys’ footsteps echoed. No other soul strolled around. It was a little eerie, albeit beneficial to their purposes. Nevertheless, they remained on their guard, ears perked and eyes darting around every corner.

Fortunately, they arrived at their destination within minutes. The plaza was deserted, although something didn’t match up with his memories of the place. Nothing had changed about the monument; it still floated in the air, and the elements continued to coalesce as one, but he couldn’t recall the trimmed hedges surrounding it.

“Were those there yesterday?” he asked, wanting to check his memories.

Wonwoo walked up the few steps leading to the grand pedestal. “They don’t appear until sundown and then disappear once dawn breaks,” he explains. “They’re used to keep vandals from messing with the monument.”

“How—Yikes!”

Just as Junhui opened his mouth to ask, Wonwoo gripped the boy’s shoulders and brought him toward the lush green leaves. Instantly, thorns and spikes shot out from the branches, effectively stopping anyone from approaching the monument. So shocked, Junhui jumped back and huddled behind Wonwoo’s back.

“Are we going to have to catapult ourselves over?” he wondered, assessing the wall of greens. Sure, the hedge only rose to about his chest, but with the ability to turn into a wall of barbed wires the moment it sensed someone approaching, it was very intimidating.

Wonwoo chuckled. “Not quite.” Fearlessly, he put his hands forward with the intent of pushing the branches aside.

Junhui scrambled to hold him back, arms twisted around the other’s torso, reaching for his hands. Before he could get the job done, though, he heard rustling. Eyes widening, he gaped as the hedge began to recoil and shrink, creating a path large enough for them to fit through and reach the center of the pedestal.

“Wha—”

Laughing again, Wonwoo disentangled their arms. He leaned in close to his ear as if sharing a secret. “These plants are originally from Serenity Woods.”

“Oh! So they don’t recognize you as an infringing individual,” Junhui finally understood.

“Mm.”

“That’s not a very good security system, then.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Well, how many people of the Court would sneak around and vandalize public property?”

“Good point.”

Now that they had free roam, the two did another thorough inspection, ensuring they didn’t miss any clue yesterday. It seemed that they’ll have to work a bit harder. Stepping back, they studied the large bowl in silence. It was so shiny and smooth. He couldn’t imagine Professor Larkin finding a spot to insert a clue anywhere.

“Let’s check the riddle again,” Wonwoo suggested.

Junhui pulled it out, along with the vial of bottled wind. “I wonder if we’re supposed to use this at some point.” He shook the vial.

After glancing at the bottle briefly, Wonwoo read the riddle again: “‘Learn from the past to build the future. The last four puzzles together make one. In time, their union shall tell a tale. Follow the smiling child to his book. Discover the secrets within.’” He stared at the large fire. “The wind is keeping up the bowl and shaping the flames. What if we’re supposed to use the wind in the bottle on the fire?”

“Oh! Maybe it’ll change shape or something!” Excited, Junhui aimed the mouth of the bottle toward the monument, and Wonwoo moved closer, ready to catch any clue they might uncover. “Here goes!” He uncorked the top, and they heard a _pop!_ A gust of wind rushed through the air, bending the flames.

“There’s something at the bottom of the bowl,” Wonwoo said, peering over the edge. Due to the height, they couldn’t see very well, not even when they got on their toes. “Come here. Get on my back.”

“Er… Okay.” A little unsure, Junhui moved around him and hopped onto his back, giggling a little at the unexpected piggyback.

Wonwoo steadied himself, hitching him up a little. “Good?”

“Yes!”

He walked as close he could, and Junhui leaned over the edge. “Can you see anything?” If Junhui’s weight was giving him any discomfort, he didn’t show it.

“Yeah, hold on.” The wind in the vial had merged with the one of the monument, and it was as if it had pulled back the flames like a curtain, revealing the bottom of the bowl. “Stars. They’re just carving of stars.”

“Is that all? Any particular constellation or shape?”

“No, there’s just a handful of carved stars.”

“Okay.” He lowered Junhui down. “The riddle said to look at...” He pulled out the journal again and flipped through the pages. “We’re supposed to ‘follow the smiling child to his book’ and ‘discover the secrets within.’”

“Maybe it refers to the riddle book? What’s the next riddle?”

Wonwoo turned the page.

“It says: ‘This thing all things devours: Birds, beasts, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town. And beats high mountain down.’ Huh, how fitting,” he muttered. “Warwick?”

“You’re giving him too much credit, I believe,” Junhui remarked dryly. “He wishes he were that powerful. But hmm. Slays kings and ruins towns… war? Wait, no. That doesn’t fit with the others.” Looking at him with narrowed eyes, Junhui wondered, “Please don’t tell me this realm has some kind of metal-eating dragon?”

Wonwoo chuckled. “If they did exist, do you think we’d have gone this long without encountering one?”

“That’s true. But then what could it be?” Groaning, Junhui pressed his hands over his face. “By the time we reach the end of this riddle book, we’re going to be a hundred years old.”

At his trivial comment, Wonwoo’s eyes lit up. “That’s it!”

“What?”

“Time! All living things eventually die, and the nonliving get worn down.”

“Wow…” Junhui breathed out. “So time,” he pointed to the riddle book, then the monument. “And stars.”

“Nighttime?” Wonwoo considered. “The time when stars come out.”

“What does it refer to, though? Nighttime for what?”

“Maybe we’re missing another clue,” he concluded, scratching his hair.

He handed the journal off to Junhui and went back to examine the monument. While he did so, Junhui studied the riddles again, just to double-check they interpreted them correctly. They didn’t skip over any riddle, and so far, their answers had been proved correct by the locations they visited. What else was there at this spot that they couldn’t figure out? Maybe Junhui should have paid more attention to the history lesson the tour guide had given them yesterday.

Raising his head to search for Wonwoo, he almost screamed. Fortunately, he successfully bit the urge down as he ran over to the monument, where Wonwoo had just laid on the ground and eased himself under the huge marble bowl. He held a small magic flame in one hand.

“Are you insane?” Junhui hissed, head whipping around to ensure they were still alone. “If that thing crashes down, you can kiss your pretty face goodbye.”

Wonwoo snorted, not properly giving the conversation merit. “That’s fine. You’ll still love me, right?”

Junhui choked, heat rising to the top of his head. “Will you please just move?” Scared and worried, he hid behind his hands and peeked through his fingers. “It’s so dangerous.”

Ignoring him, Wonwoo announced, “I found something.”

“Is it another riddle?”

“No. There’s a divot where something was removed—some kind of dial? There’s an imprint of a fuchsia carved into it.” At last, Wonwoo carefully slid out and dusted himself.

“A fuchsia? I thought that was a color.”

“It is, but it’s also a flower.” Glancing around the town plaza, Wonwoo pointed to a hanging flower basket in front of the bookstore. “Right there.”

Junhui squinted, then jogged over to take a closer look. As realization hit, his eyes widened. “Is that…” He returned to Wonwoo’s side, speaking a mile a second. “Isn’t that the plant Oliver has tattooed on his arm? The secret organization emblem? And now that I think about it, some of the tiles on the outside of that mysterious box had the same color! Maybe the image has something to do with the fuchsias, too!”

Unfazed by Junhui’s rapid fire speech, Wonwoo nodded. “Mm. Oliver’s definitely involved.”

“But how?” Junhui wondered, eyes narrowed.

“Maybe Warwick knows more about all these riddles and clues than we thought,” he muttered.

“You think he’s ordered Oliver to sabotage us?”

“Not in so many words, but if he’s been led to believe that Serenity Woods is the enemy, then it wouldn’t be too farfetched for him to think that he’s helping his King and protecting Everett by causing us trouble.”

Junhui chewed on his lip. “Something doesn’t sound right. As much as he loves Everett, it’s hard to image him acting as Warwick’s errand boy. He’s too arrogant for that. From the way he spoke to me yesterday, he’d much rather fight Serenity Woods head on than sneaking around behind people’s backs.”

A sliver of silver swirled through his eyes as he scoffed. “Isn’t that what his entire family has been doing for generations now? Whatever the case may be, we need to return to the inn before anyone notices us. Come on.”

They gathered their things and climbed down the steps. As soon as Wonwoo got far enough away, the hedges moved to fill up the gap, leaving no traces of any intruder having been there. The pair hurried away. Not a second too soon, either. As they crossed the street, a few shops began to open. The sun rose gradually, bathing the town in cool sunlight.

To keep his promise and not raise any suspicions, Wonwoo led them to a bakery and picked up breakfast. Junhui was a very happy boy, eating his croissant. They returned to the inn just when the guests began to file down to the dining hall for their own breakfasts. The pair headed up the stairs.

Once they entered Chan’s room, they couldn’t find him. His bed was unmade, and his clothes littered the space. It didn’t look like he was taken out of the room by force, but where did he go? None of the papers from last night could be found, either.

“Do you think he went to follow a lead?” Junhui asked just as Wonwoo returned from checking both of their rooms.

“It’s not like him to leave without notice.” Wonwoo frowned.

While the latter thought about where his cousin could have gone, Junhui quickly straightened out the room a little, folding the clothes and packing. It wasn’t wise to leave things out like this, especially with Oliver being on top of their suspect list.

“I’m going to go check the dining hall and lobby,” Wonwoo proposed. “Maybe some of the old ladies saw him walk by.”

“Okay—”

At that moment, something from the upper level crashed to the floor. Junhui flinched, eyes flickering to the ceiling worriedly. His heart hadn’t even slowed down yet, that he heard more furniture being turned over, along with objects hitting the walls.

“You bastard!” Chan’s voice echoed through the ruckus.

Wonwoo rushed out of the room and up the stairs. Junhui grabbed Chan’s bag and followed after him, taking the steps three at once. In the few seconds it took them to reach Oliver’s door, it became gradually clear that those noises were from a fight. _Oh, Channie, what happened?_

The door to Oliver’s suite was ajar, letting out the angry shouts of the two individuals, along with more destructions. Wonwoo ran inside without a second thought. Another collision shook the floor just before Junhui reached the door and pushed it aside.

“Oh, my god.”

It looked like a tornado had hit. Books and papers were strewn everywhere, shelves laid on the floor in pieces, a couple bookcases had been flipped over, and the curtains laid in a heap, yanked almost cleanly off of the windows. But Junhui barely registered the chaotic state of the room. His eyes were transfixed on Chan.

The latter snarled like a wild animal, fighting off his cousin as Wonwoo locked the younger’s arms behind his back, restraining him from further destruction. His disguised blond hair had faded away to the real dark locks, and the fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat and blood splatter. His nose looked like it could be broken; red liquid rolling down to his mouth, where his lips were split. Bruises had already begun to appear on his cheekbones, and his knuckles were a mess of varying shades of red.

The most frightening detail, though, was the color of his eyes. No longer were they as warm as chocolate. They were on the verge of turning crimson, almost maroon.

Panting heavily, Chan cast those livid eyes across the room, his jaw clenched as he growled. Wonwoo shoved his face down toward the ground, against a discarded couch cushion, so he could gain some leverage, pressing his knee between Chan’s shoulder blades to limit his movements.

“Do you want your arms to break off? Stay still!”

Chan growled in anger, surging upward, but Wonwoo pushed him down immediately.

“Damn it! Calm down!”

“Calm down?!” Chan shouted viciously, a bout of hysterical laughter taking over him. “I’ll calm down once that bastard is _dead! HE KILLED MY FATHER! HE KILLED HIM IN COLD BLOOD, AND I WILL MAKE HIM PAY!”_

Junhui gasped.

Shock crossed over Wonwoo’s face, and it was almost enough to give Chan the chance to break free, but at the last second, Wonwoo snapped out of the shock and tightened his grip. Chan snarled at him, shouting at his cousin to let him go.

“Do you think your father will be happy?” Wonwoo asked. “Happy that his son fell prey to Poison Ivy because of him?”

Instead of answering, Chan growled and whimpered, but his glare remained just as furious as he looked across the room.

It wasn’t until then that Junhui was able to take his focus away from Chan. Wonwoo seemed to have the younger firmly contained, so Junhui risked a peek.

Lying half-unconscious in the corner, Oliver coughed, spewing blood all over his beat-up body. If Junhui thought Chan looked battered, Oliver was ten times worse. He had no idea how the man could even move. His entire face was swollen from all the hits, nose and lips bleeding, bruises covering both eyes. His clothes were torn, and lacerations could be spotted along his throat and chest.

How could Chan even do this amount of damage?

Oliver groaned, coughing some more as he clutched his chest. He spit out the blood onto the carpet.

If Chan’s accusation was correct, then they definitely couldn’t let Oliver die. Not only did they need him to answer their questions about the missing dial from the monument, he had invaluable information concerning the state of the people Warwick had captured. Moreover, despite Junhui not knowing much about Poison Ivy, he was pretty sure that if Oliver died because of Chan, Chan might truly succumb to it.

With those thoughts in mind, Junhui straightened out Oliver, guiding him to lean on the wall behind him.

The action led Chan to shout at him, “Step away from him! He’s a murderer!” The rage seemed to give him more stamina than usual, making it harder to Wonwoo to keep him under control.

“Stop it!” Wonwoo hissed. “You’re going to hurt yourself!” His eyes darted around the room and stopped at the open bathroom door.

Junhui followed his gaze and understood, picking his feet to hurry and bring out a pitcher of cold water. With one splash, the cold seeped through Chan’s clothes, and he yelped. The quick distraction allowed Wonwoo to get the upper hand again. “Grab me those curtain cords.”

Junhui scooped up the pieces of rope and handed it over for Wonwoo to tie Chan’s hands together. Finding a chair with unbroken legs, Wonwoo plopped his cousin on it. The latter seethed and growled, but the water seemed to have cooled him off a little. With him confined, Wonwoo and Junhui could finally take a breath.

Seeing Junhui’s concern and questioning gaze directed at Chan, Wonwoo explained, “When someone reaches the first stage of Poison Ivy, they are highly unstable. They can’t control their own thoughts, much less their actions.”

“Oh, I assure my thoughts are _fine,”_ Chan snapped. “You’re the crazy ones, tying me up while letting him go free.”

“He’s not going anywhere right now, either,” Wonwoo replied dryly, casting a glance at Oliver’s sorry state. “Now what the hell happened? Start explaining.”

Struggling against his ties, Chan shook the chair with anger. “That conniving son of a bitch killed Dad.” He looked up at Wonwoo, cocking his head to the side. “What else do you want?” he hissed.

“Your father was the cause of my own father’s death,” Oliver blurted out, blood rolling down his chin. “He shot him in cold blood.”

“Shut up!” Chan’s eyes blazed.

Unperturbed, Oliver continued, “What kind of son would I be if I let the man responsible for his death roam free?” He coughed. “Your father was a lying traitor. He killed my father when the latter discovered that the great General Lee was nothing but a two-faced snake. He arrested the thieves who tried to smuggle the artifacts to gain points with the Court, but behind their backs, he struck deals with the captives. He promised them freedom if they paid him. Yet once he collected his fees, he threw them in jail, with additional counts of bribery. Your father was scum. He ripped those innocent people of their last coin, humiliating them, then letting them rot in jail.”

Chan shook with rage, skin turning pink from where the rope dug into his muscles. He yanked on the knots, roaring out insults, demanding Oliver to stop talking.

Junhui ran to get more water, while Wonwoo held his cousin down, afraid he’ll hurt himself. Thankfully, the water still seemed to work as Chan’s muscles relaxed, but his eyes still blazed. Junhui went to stand in his line of vision, barring him from seeing Oliver.

“None of your group members ever died in our prisons,” Wonwoo replied to Oliver in a cold voice. “They were all released after they served their sentences.”

“Not all of them,” Oliver spit out. “My uncle returned to us in a coffin.” Glaring at them, he added, “And how can you be sure all the artifacts were returned to that pathetic excuse of a museum? Or has someone taken them into a cache and lied about them going missing?”

Looking over at Wonwoo, Junhui’s stomach dropped. The former’s face had gone pale at Oliver’s accusation. Was there any truth to Oliver’s claims? Could Chan’s father really be crooked? Was he a thief who killed off witnesses in order to keep his activities a secret?

“Why do you think he taught you how to solve sliding puzzles so well, huh, Lee Chan?” Oliver taunted, a wicked smile on his bloody lips.

Junhui glanced over to Wonwoo for some kind of explanation, but he was listening intently to Oliver now.

“Did you think about that when you opened that box in mere seconds?”

Now that he gestured to it, Junhui saw the wooden box lying on the floor, the lid flipped open. He approached cautiously. Picking it up, he found a dial with a carved fuchsia at its center. Instead of numbers on a lock, this dial had wedges of colors.

“My father tried to speak the truth, and he was killed.” Oliver coughed, but he kept going. “Your father was no honorable general. He was nothing but a lying dirty thief and a murderer!”

Suddenly, Chan roared and sprung to his feet. The chair slammed against the wall, and Chan pounced on Oliver like a madman. He pinned him against the wall and punched him repeatedly. Blood flew everywhere.

In a blink of an eye, Wonwoo appeared behind him and yanked him off of his victim, hauling him away. Not knowing what else to do, Junhui scrambled toward the curtains. In one sharp tug, he ripped them off of their hooks and ran back to the cousins. Maybe they could use the fabric as a makeshift straight-jacket for the time being. Junhui stood to the side, ready to jump in if Chan overworked his cousin in his attempt to escape and kill Oliver.

Across the room, the latter slid down the wall until only his head was upright, legs sprawled out on the floor. He choked on his own blood, coughing out mouthfuls again. But then he started to laugh. With each passing second, it sounded more and more deranged. “Wherever he hid those artifacts, Lee Chan, I will find them. You can count it.”

Chan growled again, his eyes redder than seconds ago.

Horse hooves hitting the paved rocks down the streets filtered through the glass panes. _Oh, no._ Junhui ran to the window and peered down. A familiar carriage came into view, turning the corner and heading for the inn. He recognized the symbol on the doors. _Damhan._

“We need to go!” He ran back to the boys.

“Sounds like my party guests have finally arrived.” Oliver laughed merrily.

Was this entire conversation just his way of stalling until Warwick arrived? That would explain why he didn’t fight back. Instead, instigating the rage in Chan, antagonizing him every chance he got. He knew that they’d be too distracted to flee the scene.

“I got this,” Wonwoo said, after the two of them had somewhat gotten the curtains wrapped around Chan’s torso, trapping his arms. “Pick up anything you can.”

Junhui grabbed the wooden box and stuffed into it all the papers he could see, along with the dial. What he couldn’t fit in the box, he shoved into their backpacks. He looked over just as Wonwoo tied a gag around Chan’s mouth.

“Let’s go.”

Unfortunately, they would have to leave Oliver behind, despite needing so much more information out of him. But they couldn’t afford it. Not only would dragging him along slow them down, Chan might actually kill him before too soon. Their priority was survival.

When they reached the landing, they overheard the guests greeting the driver of the coach. They wouldn’t be able to go out through the front door. Taking a detour, they ran for the employees’ hallway, sneaking out the back of the building. Since the morning rush of breakfast had just started, they were able to blend into the crowd and hide in the alley behind the dumpsters. 

“There’s no way we’ll be able to make it out of town unseen,” Junhui said, one eye on the busy streets, one on Chan’s less than inconspicuous form.

“I know,” Wonwoo nodded. He swung the backpack over his shoulder and pulled out their map. Studying it for a few seconds, he shoved it back into one of the pockets. “We’ll have to risk using a quick portal.”

“But Warwick could be just on the other side of the building. Won’t he be able to track us?”

Already setting up, Wonwoo gestured for Junhui to stand to the side, keeping a good grip on Chan as he retrieved a pack of chalk. “I won’t be using my full powers, so the risks should be lower.”

Junhui thought it’d be similar to what he and Chan had done in the woods that time the guards almost caught them, but this ritual looked much simpler. Reciting some kind of spell under his breath, Wonwoo went up to the wall and drew a door with the chalk. On the door, he then wrote some symbols. Within a few seconds, the door glowed.

“Come on.”

Junhui grabbed Chan by the shoulders and guided him toward the glowing light. He couldn’t see what was on the other side, but he stepped through with Chan, regardless. At the last second, he turned over his shoulder.

Wonwoo stepped into the glowing tunnel with them, but before the closed the door, he ran his fingers through his hair, getting a few strands of hair. He threw them on the ground of the alley, more unintelligible words spilling from his lips. At last, he shut the door, joining Junhui and Chan.

They emerged into a forest. The moment they stepped out of the portal, it disappeared into thin air. Junhui figured that would be enough, but Wonwoo pulled out a candle and lit it, preparing some kind of ritual. He chanted something lowly under his breath as he set the candle in the middle of a circle he drew with the chalk. Once again, he pulled out a few strands of hair and finished up the ritual.

“Was that to hide our tracks?” Junhui wondered, helping him erase the chalk from the dirt.

Wonwoo nodded. “It should make it more difficult for him to pinpoint our whereabouts.”

That did fill Junhui with a bit more confidence. He looked around. “Where are we?”

“Just on the outskirts of town.” He checked on Chan, seeing him just as grumpy, but otherwise okay, for the most part. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot.”

“It’s okay. Anything to lower the risks of your magical signature getting picked up.” While Junhui didn’t understand all the magic logistics, it made sense that a portal transporting them a short distance would use less energy than one going all the way to the next town. The less magic used, the lower the risks. Junhui couldn’t do anything to help, so if he had to walk a few miles, it was a small price. “Besides, exercise is good, right?”

Wonwoo smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood.

Night fell by the time stopped in the deserted valleys of Viola. According to Wonwoo, they were about ten miles away from the town. Probably due to fatigue and over-exhaustion, Chan had stopped trying to undo his ties, and his muffled protestations had also ceased. A few minutes into their trek earlier this morning, Wonwoo had removed the curtain from around Chan’s torso to allow circulation to return to the younger’s arms. His wrists were still tied, though, just in case the rage surged unexpectedly.

Now Wonwoo and Junhui helped him sit against the trunk of a tree. He shot them an irritated glare, eyes still bright red. He was still under the effects of Poison Ivy, but it seemed that it hadn’t progressed further.

Junhui plopped down on the grass, digging into their bags for some water. Wonwoo sighed as he watched his cousin refuse the canteen Junhui extended toward him.

“Were you thinking of your mom at all when you attacked him?” Wonwoo asked tiredly. “Her sister is in jail, her husband was killed, and you could have turned into a crazed murderer.”

Chan growled lowly in his throat.

“You should have known better. Why didn’t you wait for us to come back instead of rushing in headfirst?”

Scowling, Chan turned his head away.

Wonwoo sighed, and without another word, he snapped his fingers to make a small purple flame appear, and walked away toward the trees.

They had stopped at a small, deserted clearing, with trees surrounding the area to hide them from immediate threat. Above them, the skies were clear, stars shone brightly all around the crescent moon. It was a little dim, but he could still see enough that he wouldn’t fall or walk into a tree. Keeping Chan in his periphery, he began to gather twigs to start a fire.

Alone with his thoughts, Junhui recalled the terrifying events from this morning, and he couldn’t help shuddering. It had always been a given that people could commit terrible things when exposed to extreme emotions, but until today, it had merely been a concept. Now that Junhui had seen the actual raw wrath and violence, it was so much worse than anything he could have imagined. Even worse that the person was a young man he cared for, someone he had considered mature and well-mannered. Glancing at Chan, Junhui sighed quietly, chest aching for him. Wonwoo was angry and disappointed that Chan had allowed his grief and anger take over him, but Junhui just felt sad.

How hurt had Chan felt when he found out the truth about his father’s death? Oliver’s constant taunting only made it worse. As mature as Chan conducted himself, he was still just a kid.

Junhui looked at him again, gauging his state, but Chan had his face turned to the side. He stared off into the distance, eyes that same distressing shade, but they looked so forlorn. The bruises under his eyes and on his cheeks were now visibly darker, the cloth around his mouth hiding the dry blood from his lips and chin. Shaking his head, Junhui put himself to work building the small fire.

Once the orange flames flickered to life, he brought out the wooden box and spread out all the documents he managed to grab before they ran away. Some shuffling from the woods interrupted his task, prompting him to look over his shoulder to see Wonwoo returning to base camp, holding the end of his shirt as a makeshift pouch. He dumped the content on the grass. Junhui recognized the honeydew leaves and some wild mushrooms, but he couldn’t tell what the rest of the plants were.

“Let’s hope this works,” Wonwoo muttered, retrieving a bowl from their supplies. Meticulously, he snapped the stems of each plant and plucked the petals of a few flowers. He picked up a small rock and cleaned it off with the water from their canteen, then he used it to crush the ingredients.

“Do you want me to do anything?” Junhui volunteered.

“Are you allergic to poison ivy?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“Then don’t touch the bowl,” Wonwoo said. “Just pour me some water.”

Junhui added the liquid slowly, stopping when he was ordered to. “Is this to help Channie?”

“If I don’t mess up.”

Junhui ignored that comment, watching him infuse some of his healing powers into the brew. “So you fight Poison Ivy with poison ivy, huh?”

“Mm.”

“If there’s an antidote to it, why doesn’t Oliver get one for himself?”

“Because it’ll only work if you’re still at the first stage,” Wonwoo replied. “Oliver’s already let it consume him completely. Channie still has a chance, but I gotta hurry up.”

Junhui stopped talk to let Wonwoo focus. Within a couple minutes, he finished and took it over to Chan. Junhui followed in case Chan made things difficult.

Wonwoo set the bowl aside. “I’m going to take the gag off, okay?” Once Chan nodded, his cousin untied the knot in the back of his head. “Try to drink as much as you can.”

Chan eyed the bowl with no small amount of disgust, but he nodded, nonetheless.

Because his hands were still tied to his back, Wonwoo tilted the younger’s head back a little and poured the liquid into his mouth. Chan gagged a few times, tears springing at the corners of his eyes, but he swallowed the potion like a champion. He left a couple spoonfuls at the bottom of the bowl, but Wonwoo deemed it was okay. Most patients coughed it out or threw up, so for Chan to have drank this much was more than good. He gave him some water, and Chan visibly relaxed, eyelids drooping.

While Wonwoo untied his hands, Junhui prepared the blankets. He used their unworn clothes as a pillow, and the two tucked the boy in. In less than half a minute, Chan’s steady breathing indicated that he’d fallen asleep. The potion seemed to be working. If everything went well, Chan should wake up the following day completely healed.

The pair returned to the other side of the fire. Wonwoo remained quiet, thoughts far away. Not wanting to disturb him, Junhui resumed his earlier task, sorting through the documents. Most of them were rendezvous notes, along with instructions and lists of active members. He found a few papers denoting heist plans, but they all dated from years ago. As far he could tell, these just further showed how the organization worked. On a couple letters, though, he saw the fuchsia emblem used as a seal. He touched the wax with the tip of his fingers, remembering their discoveries at the monument.

Junhui picked up the wooden box, examining the tile puzzle lock. According to Oliver, Chan had cracked it open in mere seconds. He probably saw the emblem and compared it to Oliver’s tattoo in order to get the image. Still, Chan’s speed was amazing.

But why was the dial inside this box? How did it get from the bottom of the monument to there? What was it even for? Professor Larkin’s riddles led them to the monument for the clue about the stars and the dial, but did he plan for them to acquire the dial from the bowl? Or was it already locked away in the box when he wrote the riddles?

All of these questions… Junhui sighed and clutched his head. No point in asking questions that no one could answer right now. Better focus his energy on something else. He picked up the box. 

The inside was lined with crimson velvet, giving it a very majestic look. The fabric was folded neatly at the corners and sewn with precision. With such skillful craftsmanship, it was rather odd to see a small tag sticking out near the lining of the lid. Curious, he carefully tugged on it. A hidden compartment sprung open, the cover snapping against his fingers.

“Ouch!” He pouted, cradling his hand.

At his exclamation, Wonwoo turned to look in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I’m fine. I was just caught by surprise.” Lifting the flap, he discovered a thin book hidden inside the lid of the box. “Look!” He reached in, bringing the book out toward the light. “I think it’s a diary.”

Wonwoo scooted closer so they could both examine it. On the cover, only the name Seo James appeared.

“Is that Oliver’s grandpa? Or his dad?”

“It looks too new to be his grandpa’s,” Wonwoo assessed. “But let’s flip through the entries and see.”

The first quarter of the journal proved to be quite normal. Nothing extraordinary or suspicious—just thoughts and reflections of a man going about his daily life. As they progressed toward the middle of the book, the entries turned shorter. They read almost like memos as the subject of the entries began to center around the smuggling. Unfortunately for them, those didn’t offer much information, as they simply stated the date and location of the heist, along with a list of initials—most likely the members who would be going on the specific mission.

Junhui flipped past those pages, Wonwoo wanting to see if he had noted anything of significance before his death. They stopped when they noticed the entries began to grow in length again.

“This was a week before he was killed,” Wonwoo noted, pointing to the date at the corner.

> _Frank came back from today’s meeting with a few guns. I have no idea where he got them, but I don’t like having them in the house with Oliver running around. I told Frank to store them elsewhere until the day of the next mission. The date and time will be announced at the next meeting._

“So they were armed. Why didn’t they use them, then?” Junhui asked.

“Maybe something went wrong. Keep going.”

Junhui flipped the page. “Two days later.”

> _They told us we’re going directly into the castle’s vaults this time. I’m hesitant to participate. Would this not be considered theft? I vowed to serve Everett and to protect its treasures, not become a criminal._

“It seems that Seo James had a conscience and second thoughts,” Wonwoo muttered.

> _We just returned from the heist, and I really do mean the word in its literal sense. What they made us bring back this time have no connection to the Everett historical relics. These jewels and artifacts belong to Serenity Woods. I don’t know what to do. Where to turn._
> 
> _Mr. Damhan will come to retrieve them in three days. I have to speak up. There must be some mistake. If the objective of our organization has gone astray, then I no longer want to be part of it._

_Oh, no_. Junhui continued on to the next entry, a day before Damhan was scheduled to come for the goods.

> _Now that I know the truth, I must find a way to stop this foolish mission. All those years of loyalty have gone to waste. Oh, how blind we’ve been! What fair monarch? The king we had served and dedicated our lives to is nothing more than a tyrant, thirsty for power, aiming to destroy our neighboring country. He used all of us to search for that cave, while misleading us to steal from Serenity Woods in the name of justice and history in order to bring the country to poverty and ruins._
> 
> _How would any of this bring justice to Princess Lianna? Or is avenging her death also a lie? An excuse to raid and conquer Serenity Woods?_
> 
> _I will ask Frank to come with me to Serenity Woods tomorrow. We need to alert the King and Queen of the impending threat just outside their door. In order to ensure the success of our travels, I will have to sacrifice the loot to serve as a distraction. While Damhan occupies himself with transporting the treasures away, Frank and I will leave undetected. My brother is the only person I have trusted with this information. If word got out before I could warn Serenity Woods, it could lead to a disaster._
> 
> _I don’t know what awaits me after I’ve turned myself in. Perhaps I will be arrested for my crimes, but at least my conscience will be at ease._

Junhui stopped, his hands resting on the page. “Mr. Seo knew,” he said in shock.

“He was trying to let us know,” Wonwoo added, the same stupefaction in his voice.

In a hurry to know what happened next, Junhui turned the page. However, only a few lines were written. It was on the day he died.

> _Before our scheduled departure, Frank refused to come along. He complained about his illness, but I know it was just an excuse. He was still upset about the truth, unwilling to believe. In a way, I suspect he was angry with me for forcing him to see, too. Hopefully, one day, he’ll come to understand that I did what I did because I want to raise Oliver to be an honest man. I love Everett with every fiber of my being, which is why I must save our country for such a tyrant. I am doing all of this for the prosperity and brighter future of Everett. Forgive me, brother._

“He never made it,” Junhui said, sadness seeping into his tone. “He was a very brave man.”

Wonwoo reached for the diary, looking for more, but all they saw were old blood stains. Mr. Seo probably carried the diary with him, writing his last entry mere hours before his death. Once again, Junhui wished this realm had technology. If Mr. Seo had carried a phone and recorded his travels, he could have left behind some clues concerning his tragic end.

“I wish this book could talk,” he muttered. “Our last witness is mute.”

“That’s it!” Wonwoo exclaimed lowly, mindful of his sleeping cousin. He put the diary aside and dug out a pencil.

“What?”

“There’s a way to extract a person’s last moments from a personal object that they carried at the moment of death. I’ve never seen it outside of the textbook, but we don’t have anything to lose by trying.”

“How would it work?” Junhui asked, eyes wide in wonder.

“It’s different for every item, so I can’t answer that. From what I understand, though, we’ll either get to see the events or hear them.”

“Whoa…”

Not losing any time, Wonwoo opened the diary to the last entry and began to write on the blank page next to it.

_My author's uncertain yet my title’s the same,_

_I contain random text yet order is my aim._

_Read me one day and see my pages are totally bare._

_Try again another day and the words will be there._

_I am not a book of magic although it may sound,_

_I can predict the future, and inside, your life can be found._

_I have no eyes and no ears, but give me a voice,_

_And I will tell you what happened over the years._

As soon as Wonwoo lifted his pencil, a small breeze blew through the trees and rustled their hair. The diary flipped to a blank page, the edges beginning to glow. The light gradually spread toward the center, collecting in the spine. Junhui watched with rapt attention, fingers gripping the top of his knees. A small flash caused him to squeeze his eyes. When he opened them again, the double pages were no longer blank. It looked like a pencil sketch, but as he studied the image, he realized with wonderment that the grass blades were swaying in the wind.

A man walked into the shot, a large sac on his back, and his hands full of several others. This had to be Mr. Seo. Even if this weren’t his diary, the family resemblance to Oliver was too obvious to ignore. Struggling to keep his balance, he climbed a steep grass hill. He caught his breath at the top. From the ragged state of his clothes and dirt on his face, his travels must have been arduous, but a bright smile illuminate his features. He stared at a grand and beautiful castle.

“Is that…”

Wonwoo nodded, gaze softening. “Yeah.”

Because Wonwoo behaved in such a humble and familiar manner, the fact that he was Royalty often escaped Junhui’s attention. But there it was: his home. An actual _castle_.

On the page, Mr. Seo picked up his bags and started moving toward his goal. He didn’t make it far, before he halted. The pleasant expression on his face shifted, leaving behind confusion. Whatever he saw was still out of sight. His mouth moved, but there was no sound.

“Frank, what are you doing here?” Wonwoo read his lips, brows knitted.

Frank. His brother?

The other person replied, but since he hadn’t appeared yet, Wonwoo couldn’t guess at the dialogue.

Mr. Seo’s look of confusion turned into fright, eyes bulging out. He backed away, limbs shaking. “No, please—”

He fell backward, blood seeping through his shirt.

Junhui gasped, pressing his hands over his mouth.

Mr. Seo struggled, body twitching from the pain and bewilderment. Two more bullets pierced his torso. He stopped moving. His blood pooled around him, dyeing the grass.

Another man calmly came into view. He looked sickly, with a shorter stature than Mr. Seo, and a frail appearance. Yet that did nothing to mask the mockery in his gaze as he looked at his dead brother. Squatting down, he admired his work with apparent pride. It was only interrupted by a sudden and vicious episode of coughs. It was so violent, Junhui feared he might cough up both lungs. So Frank really did have a serious illness—it wasn’t just an excuse. However, he did use it to ambush his own brother and kill the man.

After he stopped coughing, he panted for breath, eyes glacial as he stared at his brother. “You couldn’t just mind your own business, could you? Where does your loyalty lie now, hm?” He kicked his shoe and snorted. “Wanna know the irony, oh dear brother?” He laughed. “Our great leader wouldn’t have been able to move on with the rest of the plan without your sacrifice today. Your death will in fact set things in motion. Nothing personal, but I do have the rest of the family to feed.” Pushing himself to his feet, he walked away. “Don’t worry. Oliver’s in good hands. We’ll let him know how much of a hero his father was, and how you died at the hands of the enemy.” Laughing, he offered a mocking wave and strolled out of frame.

The scene remained for a few more seconds, before it began to fade. Eventually, the yellowed pages returned to their blank states. Even the spell Wonwoo had written disappeared.

He and Junhui sat there in silence for a moment, absorbing all the facts. Mr. Seo James was murdered by his own flesh and blood, never getting the chance to clear his name at the Court. Not only was he murdered, his death was manipulated to look like a punishment delivered by Serenity Woods because of the stolen goods.

But why blame it on Chan’s father specifically? To have Oliver kill General Lee, and thus crippling the nation’s defenses even more? All in all, Warwick had used these people as mere pawns in his quest for power. He took advantage of the Seo family’s loyalty, baiting them with money to set off their Poison Ivy condition. He turned brothers into enemies, and he warped a child’s love for his father and country, resulting in Oliver becoming a bitter and disturbed man.

All for power and greed.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Wonwoo sighed. “Warwick didn’t actually wait to enact his revenge. He set things in motion immediately after his daughter passed away. It’s just a plan that took years to come to fruition.”

“Well, he hasn’t won, yet,” Junhui said. “No matter how much he schemes, we’re better.”

Wonwoo looked over at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”

Junhui grinned wider, hoping the positive energy could spread. Admittedly, he was scared and worried, too, but that won’t solve anything. As disturbing as the truth turned out to be, they couldn’t linger on the past. They needed to move forward, figure out what to do with this dial and how it connected to the rest of the riddles.

As if reading his mind, Wonwoo brought the object closer for inspection. He turned it this way and that, lips pressed into a thin line as he concentrated. Junhui leaned over, trying to see if he could pick up anything as well, but across the fire, Chan stirred.

“I got it,” he volunteered, motioning for Wonwoo to stay put. The latter cast a look at his cousin, but nodded for Junhui to go see. On the way, Junhui grabbed the water canteen, along with a cloth.

Chan had sweated a lot, maybe a result of the potion. Carefully, Junhui lifted the younger’s head a little and tipped his mouth open a little. Then he let the water drip in small amounts. Chan smacked his lips, swallowing. Once he seemed to have quenched his thirst, Junhui repositioned him and cleaned him up. Chan mumbled something, but he quickly fell into a deep slumber again. At least Wonwoo’s magic had healed all the physical injuries. They could only hope that the mental ones will disappear soon, too.

Back to Wonwoo’s side, Junhui noticed his eyes shining with a bit of excitement. “Did you find something?”

“I’m not sure, but I think this is either a knob or a key,” he said, waving the dial around. “Here, look.” Turning it over, he pointed. “See how there are different tabs and holes? Like how it could fit into something with matching grooves?”

“You’re right,” Junhui said, running his fingers over the metal. “Whatever it opens, it has to be _super_ important. You don’t make a complicated key like this for a broom closet.”

“Yeah. It could even be for the cave.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Junhui agreed. “Professor Larkin led us to it, after all.”

Wonwoo nodded.

“Do you think Oliver and Warwick know? That it could be some sort of key, I mean.”

“Before we left his inn,” Wonwoo recalled, “He mentioned something about uncovering the truth about the artifacts and where they are hidden. That’s probably what he thought this is for. I doubt Warwick was generous enough to share the existence of the cave with a pawn.”

That made sense, however—“Then how could Mr. Seo discover the plot? Did information leak out?”

“Or he let Seo James overhear him,” Wonwoo suggested. “Remember what Frank said? His death was needed to get the chain of events to roll. What if Warwick found out about Seo James’ reluctancy after that last mission, and he expected the man to have a change of heart? So he purposely let Seo James hear the entire plot, knowing the man would go turn himself in. On his way to Serenity Woods, Warwick gets him killed. Not only does this allow Warwick to get rid of someone who ‘rebelled’ against him, it gives him an opportunity to attack us.”

“By setting Oliver up to kill your uncle.”

“Exactly. He had calculated every move. After his daughter passed, he began to plot. First, he riles up the loyalist organization by killing Seo James and blaming us, then he lies about Frank dying in prison due to mistreatment—as we saw, Frank was very ill. The group gets even more motivation to rob us, creating annoying distractions that sent men out on wild goose chases in order to capture them. In the meantime, Warwick waits for the opportunity to get rid of me. The moment I give it to him, he strikes. He sets Oliver up to kill my uncle, creating chaos. He easily captures our troops, and without them, no one is left to protect my parents and all the magic wielders.”

Junhui blinked. That was a lot to take in. Fighting against an evil king was bad enough. Now it turned out he was also very smart.

“We definitely need to beat him at his own game,” Junhui muttered, determined.

Next to him, Wonwoo chuckled a little. “If we survive that long.”

“Always so full of sunshine, aren’t you?” Junhui commented wryly.

Wonwoo’s smile turned slightly teasing. “Isn’t that your job?”

“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation, prompting the other to laugh again. “But it’d nice to have some support.”

“Then how about this?” Wonwoo picked up the riddle book and pushed it toward him.

“What? You want me to solve the next riddle? That’s not support,” he whined.

“No, silly.” He swatted his arm with the journal. “If we put everything we’ve gotten so far: time, stars, and the key, then we can safely deduce that in order to get to the cave, it’ll have to be nighttime. It’s a small clue, but it’s something, right?”

“Right!” Junhui nodded. “Okay, that was a good attempt at positivity,” he giggled, and Wonwoo laughed along.

Even though they still had so much ahead of them, the fact that they broke through Warwick’s plans and got out alive filled Junhui with a sense of accomplishment. He looked up at the sky, still so awed by the millions and millions of stars visible. In his periphery, he noticed Wonwoo following his gaze.

“I know real stars don’t look like stars,” Junhui said, “But it’s still so cool to watch them like this. I used to think they were magical.”

Wonwoo chuckled. After a moment, he began to talk in a wistful tone. “During my first trip out to sea with my father, he let me stay up for as long as I could. For a three year old, it wasn’t all that late, but he allowed it anyway. We’d lie on the deck, staring up at the sky. He’d show me constellations and tell me all the stories associated with them. One day, at the island we docked, I found a small tide pool. All sorts of tiny creatures lived there, but I was the most impressed with the starfish sticking on the rocks.”

Smile turning little bashful, he continued, “I had never seen a starfish before, so I thought that during the day, they would lie on the rocks sunbathing in order to soak up sunlight. Then at night, they’ll fly to the sky and shine.”

At the imagery of a tiny Wonwoo watching in wonder the starfish and creating such an adorable story, Junhui cooed, pressing his hands to his mouth as he gazed at him. “You were so cute!” Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around him, giggling against his shoulder. “The cutest Wonwon!”

Wonwoo snorted a little at the nickname, half-heartedly pushing Junhui away, but in the end, he just sat there and let the other hug him.

“Why can’t you be cute like that all the time?”

“What are you saying?” He laughed. “I _am_ cute all the time.”

“Nooooo!” Junhui drew back to look at him. “You’re a bully most of the time, sir. So mean.”

He arched a brow, eyes turning green. “Am I? But you just hugged me. In general, hugs are given as a sign of affection, so by that logic, doesn’t that make you a masochist?”

Junhui gasped, pulling away as his cheeks flushed. He knew Wonwoo was messing with him (as usual, especially when that logic was so completely flawed), but his body apparently didn’t get the memo, because his cheeks were on fire. Which just amused Wonwoo to no end as he threw his head back and laughed (albeit quietly).

Fueled by embarrassment and the need to retaliate, Junhui threw himself at him, tickling him around the waist and neck. “Take that!”

“Hey!” Much too easily, Wonwoo dodged his attack. _Darn those years of training!_ In no time at all, he managed to grab one of Junhui’s wrists and cease the attack. “Your hands are icy!”

“That’s why they were the perfect weapons for revenge!” Junhui struggled, pouting now that his tickle attack failed.

“Stop wiggling. Come here.” Tugging him forward, he got Junhui to sit back down. Then he cupped Junhui’s cold hands in between his. “Sit still for a few minutes. I forgot it can get a little nippy around this area at night, sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Junhui replied. “I didn’t really notice either with all the stuff happening.”

“That’s bad.” He frowned. “That’s how people lose their fingers to frostbite.”

Junhui made a noise of disbelief. “It’s just chilly. We’re not buried in snow or anything.”

“Same principle.”

Junhui sighed, shaking his head.

Wonwoo’s hands enveloping his felt like a cup of hot chocolate in winter. It was comforting and warmed him up little by little, a very pleasant sensation. Unlike a mug of hot liquid, his hands were soft and gentle, holding Junhui’s hands like they were something to be cherished. His stomach did a small numbers of summersaults.

“I—I think I’m good.” He tried to pull away, afraid Wonwoo would notice, but the latter refused to let go.

“Let me warm you up this time.”

At the comment and small smile, Junhui recalled the time he had done the same for Wonwoo. It seemed so long ago now, but just like that night, the two of them let the silent comfort settle around them.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MUCH INFORMATION!!!!! waaaaaaaaahhhh 😱 did everything make sense? please let me know if anything confuses you, and i'll do my best to explain!
> 
> CHANNIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!! 😭 poor baby otter! (although gotta say i can't be mad at him for giving oliver a beating...)
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! take care and stay safe, everyone!  
> xoxoxo


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